


Houses

by Titch360



Series: My Version of Events [11]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2019-10-05 06:45:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17319962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titch360/pseuds/Titch360
Summary: Tim contemplates time spent at home, and the different meanings of that word through his life.  Ghosts from the past are resurrected to add to a new situation facing the Dynamic Duo.





	1. Chapter 1

Houses

Chapter 1

 

Three years.

A lot can happen in three years.  Lives can change in an instant, and sometimes it isn’t noticeable for years down the road.  A person can go from a twinkle in someone’s eye to a walking, talking being in three years.  People can change their entire lives in three years.  A person can go from the top to the bottom, or the bottom to the top, or both, many times over in that span of time.

In the case of Timothy Drake, now Timothy Drake-Wayne, he had gone as low, and as high, and even lower, and even higher, than he’d ever been over the past three years.

Tim walked through the back halls of Stately Wayne Manor, contemplating his personal transition.  _Three years.  Today is the three-year anniversary of when I moved in with Bruce.  It hasn’t all been good.  Hell, most of it has been pretty freakin’ terrible, but I didn’t give up.  I didn’t give up, which made him not give up, which made everything work.  Three years ago, I was looking at an orphanage when Bruce came out of nowhere and took me in.  Even if he only took me in to make sure I didn’t tell anyone that he’s Batman, I knew, deep down, there was more to it.  I’m glad I let Dick talk me into staying long enough to let Bruce realize there was more to it, too._

_Now, look at us.  Bruce and Tim.  Batman and Robin.  Adoptive father and son.  No, I don’t like that word.  Father and son sounds so much better to me.  I think I really do love him, in a parental sort of way.  Even if it has been only a couple months since we started seeing eye to eye, I think he cares for me, too.  Like Dick said, it was always there.  Bruce just needed a swift kick in the ass to realize it.  I wish I’d done it earlier.  Maybe I wouldn’t have spent all that time wallowing in self-pity.  Thank god we’ve had some hard times as Batman and Robin.  Those scars have pretty much covered up the self-inflicted ones.  I swear, cutting might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.  I’m glad I let Dick talk me out of continuing that practice._

_Let’s stop this pity party.  Today is a day for celebrating.  I don’t have school or work today.  Bruce is working from home, and promised he would only work half a day today.  He’s been really happy lately.  Do I want to speculate why?  He said he would tell me over dinner tonight.  Must be something special, with the way he’s been smiling over the last week.  Dick said he’s coming home tonight, too.  Maybe he has a date for when he’s moving back in?  That would be good news, and it would make Bruce happy.  It would make me happy, too.  I’ve never had a brother before.  It would be nice to actually have one under the same roof._

Tim checked his watch and smiled.  _It’s almost one.  Let’s see if Bruce is ready to stop work for the day._

Tim wandered back towards the more populated sections of the manor.  The fact that he could even consider a place like Stately Wayne Manor to be home still amazed Tim.

Passing a short hallway, Tim stopped as he heard a noise.  Tim turned his head and smiled.  Alfred, one of Tim’s favorite people in the world, was closing the door to his rooms.

Alfred blushed slightly as he saw the sixteen-year-old smiling at him.  “Did you need me, Master Timothy?  You could have knocked if you needed something.”

Tim shook his head as the butler joined him at the end of the hall, “I was just passing by when I heard you coming out of your rooms.  Thought I’d stop.”

Alfred smiled at the teen, “Wandering again, young man?”

Tim nodded, “Yeah.  There’s a lot of stuff going through my mind today.”

“Master Bruce would be more than willing to assist you with your musings,” Alfred said.

Tim’s smile brightened, “My thoughts exactly.  That was where I was headed, before I ran into you.”

The teen and the butler headed towards the kitchen, and Alfred said, “Well, don’t let me hold you up.  However, I don’t think he is quite ready to…stop for the day quite yet.  You might want to wait until he leaves his study.”

Tim shrugged, “He’s never kicked me out of his office before.  Well, except for that one time when I interrupted his meeting.”

Alfred smiled at the memory, “In spectacular fashion, if I remember correctly.  Come, Master Timothy, surely there is something you can be doing that is more interesting than talking to an old man on your special day?”

“I can think of very few diversions available to me today that can be better than this,” Tim said seriously.  “I’m on my way, but there is one thing I need from you first, Alfred.”

“Anything, young sir,” the servant said.

Tim smiled as he walked forward and wrapped his arms around Alfred.  “You’ve always been there for me, Alfred,” the teen said softly as Alfred gently returned the hug, “I don’t think I would have stayed if you weren’t here, helping me out.”

Alfred couldn’t respond, because he had often wondered how Tim had put up with the majority of his treatment under Bruce’s roof.  Alfred held the teen for a couple seconds longer than he normally would, then gently moved Tim back to arm’s length.  “It has been, and will continue to be, my distinct pleasure to watch you grow these last three years.  Now that things are as they always should have been, we can take today’s milestone as the beginning of the next chapter.”

Tim sniffed, “Well said, Alfred.  Thank you.  Now, I think it’s time to make Bruce give up whatever work he’s doing and force him to spend some time with me.”

Alfred smiled, “Go in quietly, young sir.  Master Bruce might be occupied still.”

Tim flashed a smile as he walked backwards out of the kitchen, “Hey, it’s me.  The king of tact and stealthiness.”

Tim was still smiling to himself as he approached Bruce’s closed study door.  _King of stealthiness, yeah right.  I can’t count how many times I’ve slipped on a rooftop while on patrol, or knocked something over while trying to sneak into the house.  It’s a wonder I didn’t wake up the neighbors, who live a mile away, when I missed curfew on my date last week and tried to sneak back into the house.  Hmm, I still hear voices.  Bruce must still be on a call.  I’ll just go in quietly and wait on the couch._

Tim opened the door and froze one step into the study.  His jaw tried to hit the floor, and his eyes wanted to pop out of his head, to join his jaw.

Bruce most certainly wasn’t on the phone.

Bruce sat in his desk chair, but paperwork and conference calls were the farthest thing from his mind.  A slim, dark-haired woman sat in Bruce’s lap, and until Tim had opened the door and started sputtering, the pair had been engaged in an epic duel of tongues.

The woman turned in Bruce’s lap to stare at the teen in shock.  Tim saw that she appeared to be younger than Bruce.  However, Tim didn’t get the feeling of that being the case.  Even in his stunned state, Tim found the woman to be beautiful.

Tim was finally able to snap out of his shock.  He shook his head and exclaimed, “I am _so_ sorry, Bruce!”

Tim started heading for the door when Bruce said, “Tim, wait.  This is what I was telling you about; what I wanted you to see.”

Tim held a hand up, covering his eyes, “I don’t want to see that, Bruce.”

“That didn’t come out right,” Bruce murmured as Tim left the study quickly, closing the door behind him.  Bruce sighed as he picked the woman up out of his lap and set her on the desk.  “Give me a minute, Sel.  I’m sorry.  This isn’t how I wanted the two of you to meet.”

“Take your time, B,” the woman said.

Bruce hurried from the study, buttoning the top three buttons of his shirt as he went.  He heard footsteps ahead and saw Tim enter the hallway between the kitchen and dining room.  _Oh, no.  He’s heading for the garage.  Please tell me he isn’t leaving, because of this._

Bruce hurried into the hallway, hoping to catch Tim before he could get to his car.  He didn’t have to worry about that.  Instead, he had to worry about stopping before he ran Tim over.  Tim had stopped in the hall and was leaning against the wall, barely two steps past the door leading into the kitchen.

Bruce slid to a stop in front of his adopted son, “Whoa, Tim.  I almost ran you over.”

Tim didn’t look up, “I wasn’t running away, Bruce.  That was just _really_ awkward.”

Bruce smirked, “She didn’t have her tongue down _your_ throat, Tim.”

Tim shuddered, “I know you’re trying to help, Bruce, but saying that really doesn’t help make this less uncomfortable for me.”

Bruce sighed, “Look, I’m sorry.  Remember, I told you the other day that I wanted to introduce you to someone who is pretty special to me?  You told me to invite her over for dinner.  Well, she arrived early.”

Tim finally glanced up, “Yes, very early.”

Bruce looked at Tim strangely, and the teen said, “This is your house, Bruce.  If you want to sneak a woman into your room, you don’t have to be so covert about it.  It’s not the first time you’ve had a woman spend the night.”

Bruce looked down, “It’s the first time I’ve had someone spend the night that I think I’m serious about since you’ve lived here.  With our past relationship, I didn’t know how you’d take something like that.”

Tim finally smiled, “Bruce, I’m happy for you.  You deserve to have a life, too.  Your life didn’t stop just because you adopted me.  Just tell me when you’re doing stuff like this, though, so I won’t come barging into your office and embarrass all of us.”

Bruce pulled Tim into a hug, “You’re really okay with this, Tim?”

Tim sighed as he laid his head on Bruce’s chest, “The timing could have been a bit better, but yeah.  I don’t mind.”

“What about the timing,” Bruce asked.

Tim thought for a second before saying, “It’s just…I thought today was supposed to be my day.  Our day to spend some time together.  I made sure I didn’t have school or work today.  I got Cassie to cover anything The Titans might need from me today.  You agreed to work from home today, and only work a half day, so we could spend some time together.  I was fine with you bringing a date to our dinner.  Now, though, she’s already here.  You can’t just ignore her until dinner.  I just wanted a little time where the two of us could be alone; where it could be just the two of us.”

“I’m so sorry, Tim,” Bruce apologized.  “I know today means a lot to you.  I’m sorry I screwed up your plans.  That doesn’t mean we can’t still spend time together, though.  I wanted the two of you to meet, anyway.  We can make this right.”

Bruce leaned down to kiss Tim’s forehead.  Tim reached up and stopped Bruce’s face before he could make contact, “Not until you clean her lipstick off of your mouth.  You know this woman.  I still haven’t been introduced yet.  I don’t want to be wearing her lipstick until I at least know her name.”

Bruce smiled, and was surprised when a handkerchief was held out to him.  Bruce took the cloth and said, “Thanks, Alfred.”

Tim looked over at the butler, “Alfred, you knew Bruce wasn’t on a conference call.  Why didn’t you warn me what was going on?”

Alfred turned to Bruce, “Did the young lady arrive early, Master Bruce?”

Bruce blushed, “Not exactly.  She didn’t leave last night.”

Alfred stared at Bruce, “And Master Timothy walked in on…”

“They had their clothes on, Alfred,” Tim said, “It was still embarrassing, though.”

Alfred shook his head as he walked back into the kitchen.  Bruce threw an arm around Tim’s shoulders and asked, “Do you want her to leave?  I know you said it would be alright if she came for dinner tonight, but if you’re going to be uncomfortable, we’ll both understand.  Like you said, this is your day.”

Tim thought seriously for a second, “She can stay.  Actually, if she’s as important to you as you said a couple minutes ago, maybe I should get to know her better.”

Bruce was surprised at the change in Tim’s mood, “Oh?  Why do you say that?”

Tim smirked up at his adoptive father, “I haven’t had a mom in a long time…Dad.”

Bruce’s eyes widened, “I hadn’t even thought about that, Tim.  If you want, how about I introduce you two now?  We can have a nice long talk, then dinner, then she can go home and we can try to salvage that time you were hoping to spend with me.  If you want, we can stay in tonight.  I know you like when we can just sit and talk.”

Tim smiled up at Bruce warmly, “I’d like that, Dad.  All of that, exactly as you just said it.”

Bruce started leading Tim back to the study when Tim stopped, “But not in your study.  I think that would be too awkward right now.”

Bruce smiled with a nod, “Whatever you want, son.”

Tim nodded, “How about the den?  We haven’t talked in there in a while.”

Bruce smirked, “That’s because you fall asleep on the couch every time that we do.”

“Is that so bad,” Tim asked quietly, “You make me comfortable.”

Bruce released a happy sigh, “I guess that’s not so bad.  Tim, in all seriousness, and with my love, happy anniversary.”

Tim hugged Bruce tightly again, “Thank you, Dad.  Thanks for making it possible.”

Bruce returned the hug for several seconds, “You’re a good kid, Tim.  I’m glad I was able to find that out.”

The pair separated, and Tim found that he was a bit nervous as he waited in the den.  _I don’t know what’s taking Bruce so long.  His study is just down the hall.  Oh, wait.  I interrupted something back there.  Maybe she wanted to…finish up?  I might have a few minutes.  I’ll just take a quick break of my own._

Tim stood as Alfred walked by the room.  The butler stopped and asked, “Master Timothy, is there anything I can do for you?”

Tim smiled as he joined the butler in the hall, “Sorry, Alfred.  I know you like being helpful, but this is something you can’t help me with.”

The pair stopped outside of the downstairs bathroom, and Alfred smiled, “Ah.  Yes, of course.”

Tim stopped before he closed the door, “Hey, tell Bruce where I am, if he goes looking for me.  He’s going to introduce me to this woman of his.  I don’t want him thinking the wrong thing when he can’t find me.”

“Of course, young sir,” the man said as the door was closed.

Alfred returned to the den to find a dark-haired woman seated on the couch, and Bruce pacing around the room.  _I see,_ Alfred thought, _Master Timothy was right to pass along his message._   Alfred cleared his throat, then said, “Good afternoon, Miss.  Master Bruce, I was asked to relay a message.”

Bruce stopped pacing, “Oh, god.  I did it again, didn’t I?  Tim was putting on a brave face, but he really is angry with me.  I knew it.”

Alfred shook his head, “Master Timothy asked me to relay to you that he will be along in a minute or two.”

“He isn’t running away,” Bruce asked.

“Not unless you consider the restroom a viable escape option,” Alfred said, hiding a smile.  Bruce sighed, and Alfred continued, “He asked me to relay his message so you wouldn’t react to his absence exactly as you seem to have reacted.”

Tim wandered back into the den with a soft smile on his face, only to be engulfed in a tight hug by Bruce.  His voice muffled by Bruce’s shoulder, Tim asked, “Didn’t you tell him where I was, Alfred?”

“Apparently, not soon enough, Master Timothy,” Alfred said as he walked out of the den.

“You’re not mad, Tim,” Bruce asked softly.

Tim rolled his eyes before pushing Bruce back gently and looking up into his eyes, “I had to pee, Bruce.  I would only be mad if I didn’t make it to the bathroom in time.”

Bruce started to sprout a smile, “Okay, son.”

Tim cocked his head to the side, like he was trying to look around Bruce.  Bruce started and said, “Oh, right.”  He turned and led Tim over to the couch, where the dark-haired woman was rising, “Timothy Drake, I’d like you to meet Selina Kyle.  Selina, this is Timothy, my son.”

Selina smiled at the teen and held out her hand, “It’s nice to meet you, Timothy.”

Tim shook the hand and said, “Please, call me Tim.”

Selina looked down at their hands as they each let go, and Tim blushed a bit, “Oh, sorry about that.  I just washed my hands.”

Selina tried to wipe her now-damp hand on her pants without being too obvious about it, “Well, I’m very glad about that.  You must be something special, Tim.”

Tim blushed a bit at the remark, “What do you mean?”

Selina winked at Tim, “When he introduced me to the other two, he never called them ‘my son’.  It was always ‘my boy’ or some other, non-familial title.”

Tim cocked his head.  _How long has Bruce known this woman?  Jason’s been dead for almost four years._

Selina caught the look on Tim’s face, “I’ve known Bruce since we were younger than you, Tim.  I pop in and out every few years.”

Tim nodded, “Oh.  That’s good.”

“Why don’t we sit down,” Bruce said.  _They already seem friendly with each other.  Maybe I worried for nothing,_ Bruce thought.

Bruce was surprised when Tim sat down and turned to face Selina, who sat next to him.

“So,” Tim said, “You’ve known Bruce for a long time?  I bet you have some interesting stories.”

Selina gave a knowing smirk, “I don’t know how many of those stories Bruce wants getting out.”

“What was he like when he was my age,” Tim asked.

“How old are you Tim?”

“I’m sixteen,” Tim replied.

Selina leaned back a bit, “A sixteen-year old Bruce Wayne.  Sadly, not too different from now.  Very serious.  Very focused.  He had his softer moments, but not as many as anyone would like.  B, had we dated at all, back then?”

Bruce thought for a second, “At sixteen?  Yeah, I think we had.  I know we started around there.  Maybe we were seventeen?”

“I don’t remember, either,” Selina said.

Tim looked back and forth between Bruce and Selina, “Wait.  Bruce, was Selina your first love?”

Bruce blushed slightly at being asked such a question so openly by his normally reserved son.  The blush answered Tim’s question without Bruce having to say a word.

Tim nodded, “Then, she’s very special to you, and I interrupted something important earlier.  I’m sorry.”

Selina reached out and gently grabbed Tim’s forearm, “Don’t apologize, Tim.  It wasn’t that special.”

Tim’s eyes widened at the implication, bringing a smile to Selina’s face.  “To be honest, I think this is a bit more special than a quickie in Bruce’s office.  He probably doesn’t want you to know this, but Bruce was nervous about introducing us.  I was only trying to calm him down when you walked in on us.”

Tim turned to look at Bruce, “You were nervous about introducing us?”

Bruce looked down, “You know I’m still feeling out our relationship.  I don’t want to drive you away again.”

Tim gave a soft smile, “This wouldn’t drive me away, Bruce.  I only want us both to be happy.”

“Good,” Bruce said.

Selina gave a smile, “You’re right, B.  He’s very caring.  Tell me, Tim, what is so special about today?  Bruce said today was your day.  Is it your birthday, or something?”

Tim turned the soft smile to Selina, “It’s not my birthday.  I think I like today more than my birthday.  Did Bruce tell you how I came into his life?”

“A little bit,” Selina said.

Tim nodded, “Well, without getting into too many sob stories, I lost my parents.  Dad when I was eleven, and Mom just after I turned thirteen.  I thought my life was pretty much over at that point.  Out of nowhere, Bruce offered me a home.  We had met a few months before Mom died, and I guess I made an impression on him.  Today is the anniversary of the day I first came to live here.”

Selina nodded, enjoying the way Bruce was staring adoringly at the teen in front of him.  “A good day, then.  How long has it been?”

“Three years,” Tim said, grinning.

“That’s special, Tim,” Selina said softly, looking more at Bruce as she said it.

Tim leaned back into Bruce.  An arm wrapped around Tim, as he was hoping, and Tim said softly, “It’s even more special this year.  This is the first anniversary where we’re actually getting along.”

Selina looked back and forth between the men, “There has to be a story behind that.”

Tim looked down with a sigh, “Not one I really want to talk about today.”

Selina glanced up at Bruce, who was giving her a firm look and shaking his head.  She let the issue drop, determined to ask Bruce about it later.  Selina stared at Tim for a second before saying, “Bruce tells me you’re the smart one around here.”

Tim shrugged, “I guess so.”

“You said you’re sixteen,” Selina said, “So you have, what, another year of school left, right?”

Tim thought for a second, looking up, “Yeah, I could probably finish in another year.  Not sure if I want to do a Master’s yet or not.”

Selina stared at Tim strangely, “Wait, what?”

Bruce smiled at her confusion.  He patted Tim’s shoulder as he said, “Tim graduated high school early, a month or so ago.  He’s been taking college classes for a year now.”

“Wow, you really are the smart one,” Selina said with wide eyes.

“Hey!  Mom’s home!”

All eyes in the room turned to the door as Dick walked into the den.  Dick patted Bruce’s shoulder, ruffled Tim’s hair, then leaned down and hugged Selina.

The woman gave an indulgent smile as Dick sat down next to her on the couch, “That was far cuter before you grew taller than me.”

Dick shrugged, “You’re not feeling old, are you?”

“When a guy who is almost thirty calls me mom, yes, I feel old.”

Dick rolled his eyes, “I’m twenty-six, Selina.  That’s not almost thirty.”

“It’s closer to thirty than it is to twenty,” Tim said with a smile.

“Hush, you,” Dick said, not looking at his younger brother.  He nudged Selina lightly, “So, what do you think of our newest youngster?”

Selina gave Tim a warm smile, “I like him.  He seems to fit in well around here.”

Tim blushed and gave a nervous smile, “Thanks.”

Dick winked at Tim over Selina’s shoulder, then asked, “How long are you staying this time, Selina?”

Tim was confused at the way Selina was eyeing Bruce.  “I’m not sure yet,” she said cautiously.

“Looking to turn over a new leaf,” Dick asked.

“I’m considering it,” Selina said, “I’m looking into new lines of business.”

“What do you do, Selina,” Tim asked.

Selina glanced at Bruce again before saying, “I’m between jobs right now.”

“Maybe Bruce can find something for you at Wayne Enterprises,” Tim suggested.

Bruce hid his cringe from Tim, and Selina said, “You know, that probably wouldn’t be a good idea.  I’m not really the corporate type, and I don’t tend to stay in the same place long enough to hold a normal job.  Nine to five really isn’t my style.”

Alfred appeared at the door to the den and announced, “Miss Kyle, gentlemen, dinner is served.”

Bruce sent Dick a look as he stood and walked out of the room with Tim.  Dick waited a second, then whispered to Selina, “Are we not telling Timmy about your nightlife?”

“Bruce said not to,” Selina whispered back, “At least, not tonight.”

Dick grabbed Selina’s arm, “Don’t make him have to find out the hard way, okay?  He likes you; I can tell.  It would crush him if he had to arrest you.  Timmy is prone to bouts of depression, and that would send him spiraling into one.”

“Bruce wouldn’t let him arrest me,” Selina said.

Dick shook his head, “Tim is just as dedicated to law and order as Bruce is.  Bruce allows him to operate on his own, and take his own patrols.  Also, like the rest of us, he has issues with transitory parental figures.  Don’t hurt him, Selina.”

_Parental figures?  I just met the kid today._   The pair walked to the dining room as Selina asked, “Aren’t you pushing things a bit?  I’m not a parental figure.”

“You’re the longest relationship Bruce has ever had,” Dick said with a smile, “If you won’t be our mommy, then who will?”

Selina rolled her eyes hard, “You know, I liked you a whole lot more before you hit puberty.”

Dick gave Selina a quick hug before they both entered the dining room.

_After Dinner…_

“Well, I’ll see you all later.  It was nice to meet you, Tim.  Thanks for allowing me to be here for tonight, and I’m sorry about our first meeting.”

Tim gave a warm smile as a blush reddened his cheeks, “Well, that’s what I get for not knocking before entering a closed room.  I’m glad I got to meet you, Selina.  I hope I’ll see you soon.”

The woman left the Manor with one last wave to the trio of men standing on the front porch.

Walking back into the Manor, Dick grabbed Tim’s shoulders from behind, “What’s next on your day, Timmy?  You want to get an early start on a long patrol?”

Tim shook his head as he reached up and grabbed Dick’s hands, “We’re actually staying in tonight.  If you want to hit the streets, don’t let us stop you.”

“Are you feeling alright, Little Brother,” Dick asked, concerned.

Tim stopped in the hall, just outside of the front sitting room, pulled Dick into a tight hug, and laid his head on the taller man’s chest.  Tim gave a small sigh to match his smile, and whispered, “Call me that again.”

Dick smiled as he squeezed his adoptive sibling, “Little Brother.”

Tim gave a contented sigh, “I’m good, Big Brother.”

_Tim’s never this physically needy.  At least, not too often.  I don’t think he’s as good as he’s letting on.  He’s trying, and all I can do for him is be here for him when he decides to open up more.  That’s the best thing about Timmy.  He doesn’t wait too long before opening up to one of us.  Not anymore, at least.  I wish Jason could have been a little more like Tim.  Maybe we could have…no, it doesn’t help anyone or anything to think like that._

Dick returned his thoughts to the teen, who was still hanging on to him.  Tim said softly, “Mom and Dad always talked about trying for a little brother or sister for me.  I don’t know how I would do as the older brother.  You’re good at it, though.”

Dick smiled, “You never know.  Bruce might come up with something.”

Tim looked up, “Do you think he and Selina are that far along in their relationship?”

Dick shrugged, “I don’t know, but you know how Bruce likes to collect orphans.  It’s entirely possible that you won’t be the last Robin.”

Tim stepped back and said, “If any potential future Robins are like you, I think I’ll be okay with that.”

“Aww, gee.  Thanks, Timmy,” Dick said sheepishly.  “So, what are you going to do, if you’re staying in tonight?”

“Bruce promised me we could talk.”

“Is it serious,” Dick asked.

Tim shook his head, “No, just catching up.  I’ve been kind of busy lately, and Bruce is always busy.  I’ve been…pretty sad this week.  Bruce is really good at fixing that.  So are you, but…”

“But Bruce is better,” Dick said with no reservations, “I agree with that, one hundred percent.  Do you want me to clear out for you two?  I will, if you want me to.”

Tim looked into Dick’s eyes with a conflicted gaze, “Are you sure you don’t mind?  I don’t mean to be so selfish, but…”

Dick interrupted again, with a smile on his face, “But you and Bruce are still learning, and you want to make sure you can do this on your own.  You spent three years being shoved aside, and having Bruce all to yourself shows you what I’ve known all along.  You matter.  You’re important.  We love you.  I’ll see you two after patrol.  Knowing you two, you will probably still be talking on the couch when I get home.”

Tim hugged Dick again, “Thanks for understanding, Dick.”

“I’m not leaving for patrol for another hour,” Dick said, “is it okay if I stick around until then, or do you want Bruce to yourself all night?”

Tim gave a small chuckle, “He’ll ask if we’re fighting if I kick you out now.  I think I’d like it if you stayed for a bit.”

Dick’s face brightened at Tim’s reply, “Love you, Little Brother.  I’m going to hit the bathroom, then I’ll be back.”

“We’ll be in here,” Tim said as he turned and entered the sitting room.

Tim was surprised to find Bruce sitting on the couch, waiting for the teen, with a grin on his face.  Tim stopped behind the couch, to question the look.  Bruce stood, rounded the couch, and pulled Tim into a tight hug.

“Dick was right, you know,” Bruce said softly, “We do love you.  I wish I had the ability to be a better parent to you, Tim.  You deserve it.  You deserve someone better than me.”

Tim sighed, “We talked that loud, huh?”

Bruce nodded, “I’ve noticed you’ve been a bit louder over the past few months.”

Tim looked down as they walked to sit down on the couch, “Oh.  Sorry.”

Bruce shook his head, “No.  Don’t be sorry.  It’s a good thing.  It tells me you’re getting more comfortable here.  This is your home, now.  You should be comfortable.”

Tim looked up with a small grin, “Thanks, Bruce.  I…I do like it here.”

The pair sat down on the couch, “Good.  That’s what I wanted for you.  So, how are things going?  You’ve been busy lately.  I haven’t seen much of you.”

Tim nodded, “Yeah, it’s been busy.  This week is going to be just as busy.”

Bruce arched an eyebrow, “Oh?  Anything I can help you with?”

Tim thought for a second, “I don’t think so.  It’s weird, having to go to campus for classes now.  I liked the online courses better.”

“How many classes are you taking this summer,” Bruce asked.

“Just one,” Tim said, “A business writing class.”

Bruce smiled, “Can I expect another surprise interview request?”

“Maybe,” Tim said, “I’m interviewing other people for my first two papers, though.”

Bruce gave a mock-hurt look, then said, “Well, I know you can convince anyone to talk to you about anything.  Who did you wrangle into your homework?”

Dick walked back into the sitting room and took a seat next to Tim on the couch.  Wrapping an arm briefly around the teen, Dick said, “I think I’m interview number one, right?”

Bruce looked at Dick, then asked, “Why him?”

“A contracting specialist for the biggest company in the city does a lot of writing.  Especially one who will eventually be head of contracting, before eventually becoming CEO.”

Bruce nodded, “I guess so.  Are you interviewing more than one person for this paper?  If Dick is interview number one, who is interview number two?”

Tim shook his head, “It’s not for this paper.  I’m planning on working ahead in the syllabus, though.  I’m interviewing Lucius Fox for my second paper.”

“Lucius is usually pretty busy,” Bruce said, “Want me to see if I can get you on his calendar?”

Tim smiled, “I already have an appointment for Thursday.”

Bruce was shocked, “You were going to be in the building, and you weren’t going to tell me about it?”

Tim shrugged, “You’re busy, too.  Besides, Thursday is going to be jam-packed.”

Dick spoke from behind Tim, “Did you tell him yet, Timmy?”

Tim blushed a bit as Bruce asked, “Tell me what?”

“I wasn’t going to tell you until after, but I have an interview Thursday.”

Bruce looked confused, “But, you already have a job.  I know the campus bookstore doesn’t pay a lot, but you really don’t need a second job.  I think I can cover you for whatever you need or want.”

“It’s not that,” Tim said nervously, “I’m going to interview Dick over lunch, and Lucius in the afternoon, but in the morning, I’m interviewing for an internship.”

Bruce’s eyes widened in shock, and he whispered, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Tim looked down, “Because I want to get it or not get it on my own merits.  I don’t want anyone feeling like they have to give it to me, or they’re going to lose their job.  I didn’t even use my full name when applying for the internship.”

That confused Bruce, “What do you mean?”

“I just used Drake, not Drake-Wayne.”

Bruce reached out and placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder, “I understand.  If you want me to stay out of it, I will.  I usually don’t have any input on interns.  Will you come and see me after you talk to Lucius, though?  I want to know how it goes.”

Tim nodded, “I can do that.  I’ll need a ride home, so I’ll have to see you.”

Bruce looked at Tim in confusion, and Tim said, “I asked Alfred to drive me to Wayne Tower.  I think I’ll be too nervous to drive myself there safely.”

Bruce smiled, “Always thinking ahead.  That’s my boy.”

Dick gave a large sigh, “I guess I’ve put it off long enough.  You boys have fun while I’m off keeping the city safe.”

Dick stood and ruffled Tim’s hair.  As Dick was walking out of the room, Tim said, “Thanks for understanding, Dick.”

Tim turned his attention back to Bruce, who asked, “Which department is the internship with?”

“I’m not sure I should tell you before the interview,” Tim said.

“I already agreed to stay out of it, Tim.”

Tim gave a small smile, “There’s an open internship for a tech designer.”

“Is that what you want to do,” Bruce asked.

Tim nodded, “I think I would be good at it.  I’m doing a lot of that in my classes at school.”

Bruce nodded, “Tech has never failed to hire directly from the intern program.  If you can impress them, that is just about a lock for a job, once you turn eighteen.”

“That’s good to hear,” Tim said, “Now, I just have to get past the interview.  I don’t interview well.”

Bruce scooted a bit closer to his son, “You know the old trick for that, right?  It’s the same trick you can use for public speaking.  Just imagine the interviewer in their underwear.”

Tim rolled his eyes, “That backfires, you know.  The girl who interviewed me for the bookstore was freakin’ hot.  I could barely answer her questions, because I was thinking about her in her underwear.  Then, when her boss took over for the second half of the interview, I nearly threw up.  She is close to seventy, and close to three hundred pounds.”

“You got the job, didn’t you,” Bruce said with a smile.

Tim nodded, then grew a small smile, “I almost got a date with Jill, the first interviewer, until she saw on my application that I’m sixteen.”

“And that mattered because?”

Tim sighed, “She’s twenty-two, and said she didn’t want to be arrested.”

Bruce nodded, “The downside to being as advanced as you are.  Since we’re on the subject of dates, what do you think of Selina?”

Tim’s eyes brightened a bit, “I think you made a good choice.  She’s good looking, funny, smart.”

“And,” Bruce asked.

“I like her, Bruce,” Tim said.

Bruce released a nervous breath, “Oh, good.  I’m glad to hear that.  I think she liked you, too.”

Tim smiled, “At least we have something to joke about, with our first impression.”

Bruce nodded, “So, you would be okay with it if I invited her over again this weekend?”

“This weekend,” Tim asked, confused.

“Is that too soon,” Bruce asked.

Tim shook his head, “This is Tuesday night, Bruce.  Don’t you want to see her sooner?  You obviously like her.  Do you really want to wait three more days to see her?”

Bruce smirked, “Well, no, but earlier today she said she isn’t available for the next day or two.  Friday will probably be the earliest I can see her again.  I’m just glad you’re onboard with her coming around.”

Tim yawned and leaned closer to Bruce, “Maybe she is what you need.  You’re not as happy as you play for the cameras.  Maybe she can help.”

It concerned Bruce that Tim was worried about his state of mind.  _I’m supposed to be concerned about him, not the other way around._

Bruce leaned back and wrapped an arm around his son, “Tim, thank you, but you don’t need to worry about me and my happiness.  That’s not your job.  It’s my job to worry about you, not the other way around.”

Tim shrugged as he leaned into Bruce’s side, “Just because it isn’t my job doesn’t mean I don’t still do it.  We all want you to be happy, Bruce.  If Selina does that for you, you’ll be hard-pressed to find an argument against her.”

Tim closed his eyes as his head came to rest on Bruce’s shoulder.  Tim took a deep breath as Bruce released a contented sigh.  _What did I do to deserve this kid?  Why didn’t I treat him better from the start?  I guess that just proves how damaged both of us are.  Now isn’t the time for damage, though.  Now is the time for healing.  I’ll be damned if I allow this one to be hurt again.  Alfred will make sure of that._

_Later…_

“Bruu-uuce.  Wakey, wakey.”

Bruce stirred, until a hand landed softly on his shoulder, and the same voice entered his ear softly, “Don’t move.”

Bruce stilled as he recognized the voice.  He whispered, “We did it again, didn’t we?”

Dick walked around to the front of the couch and kneeled down next to Bruce, “If you mean falling asleep on the couch while talking, then yes.”

Bruce turned his head slightly and caught a glimpse of the shaggy brown hair on his shoulder.  “He’s still out?”

“Looks that way,” Dick whispered.  “He’s a little big to be carried to bed.  Do you want to wake him, or should I?”

Bruce began moving slowly, and soon stood, with Tim clutched to his chest, “Nonsense.  None of you will ever be too big.”

Dick smiled, “I’ll remember that.”

“How was patrol,” Bruce asked as they headed slowly for the stairs.

Dick sighed roughly and shook his head, “I almost had him, Bruce.”

Bruce turned his head, “Had who?”

“The Red Hood,” Dick said, “He’s good, Bruce.  Almost too good.  I think we’re pretty evenly matched.”

Bruce’s eyes widened, “You think he’s as good as you are?”

Dick took a breath as he nodded, “Yeah, I do.  We need to find out which side he’s on, before it’s too late.”

Bruce started climbing the stairs, “We’ll have to make him a priority.  We can start that tomorrow night.  For now, we need to get this one to bed.”

Dick looked up as he walked behind Bruce, and had a hard time not laughing.  Tim was staring at him as Bruce carried him.  Tim winked at Dick before closing his eyes again and leaning his head over to rest against Bruce’s.

Dick took a contented breath and thought, _Happy Anniversary, Little Brother._

 

**A/N:  Well, here we go again.  The start of a new story.  As you should be able to tell, this will take place before Damian is in the picture.  I think some of you can see where at least part of this story is going, and you’re right.  Just because there are two obvious problems presented doesn’t mean that is all that will be going on.  The third problem, which is actually the first one I thought of in my outline for this story, will be introduced in the next chapter.**

**The Red Hood reference and inclusion was a last-minute addition, and at this point, I don’t know how well it’s going to fit in to the story.  It’s going to add a couple extra chapters that I wasn’t originally planning, though.**

**While I’m writing this one, I’m also working on a story called Nightmares.  That one will be a one-shot, and I hope to get that one up over the next few days.  Then, I will be focusing on this one.  If this one takes me as long to write as Hero Hunt did, I might go crazy.**

**Please let me know what you think so far.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	2. 2

Houses

Chapter 2

 

“He’s getting away, Batman.”

“He is _not_ getting away, Robin.”

Robin smirked from the passenger seat of the Batmobile as they chased their first real case of the night.  They had whetted their appetite on a smash and grab and a couple of drug dealers.  Now, they were chasing something bigger.

The stolen armored truck that the Dynamic Duo was chasing lumbered through an intersection ahead of the Batmobile, barely missing cross traffic.  Batman slowed down, only slightly, to make a safer passage through the red light.

By the time they had safely crossed the street, the fleeing armored truck had taken a wild right hand turn down a side street.

“Are you sure he’s not going to get away,” Robin asked.

Batman took the same right turn as the truck, only to see the vehicle take a left turn down another street, two blocks ahead.  Batman floored the accelerator and made the left at sixty miles per hour.

The truck was nowhere to be seen.

“I don’t want to hear it, Robin,” Batman growled dangerously.

Robin wasn’t going to say anything.  He had learned long ago that it was okay to joke with Batman while the hunt was going well.  It was a dire mistake to make the same joke when the criminals were eluding them.

Batman and Robin scanned the street for any sign of the stolen truck, but the street was empty.  Growling, Batman drove faster, hoping to find some clue of where the truck went.

“Batman, stop!”

Batman slammed on the brakes at Robin’s excited cry.  “What?”

“I saw the truck!  They stopped in an alley; two back, on the left.”

Batman slammed the car in reverse and floored it, sending Robin flying forward against his seatbelt.

Batman turned down the alley where the truck had stopped.  The Dark Knight jumped out of the car and approached the stopped vehicle cautiously.  Robin followed, rubbing where the strap had dug into his chest.

Observing the scene, Robin smiled and whispered, “The alley was too narrow at this end.  The truck got wedged.”

Batman nodded as he approached the back of the truck, “Stand back, Robin.  They’re most likely heavily armed and pissed off.”

Robin stood behind Batman as he ripped open the back door of the truck.  No weapons fire met the move, as Batman had expected.  Batman stuck his head around the door and said, “Clear.”

Robin looked around Batman and winced.  The truck had obviously been traveling down the alley at a high rate of speed.  When the truck stopped suddenly, the cargo, and the two goons in the back, had shifted forward against the front wall of the box.

Robin climbed into the truck, trying not to focus on the bright red spot on the front wall that used to be one criminal’s head.  Instead, Robin looked at the second goon.

“This one’s still alive, Batman,” Robin called out.

Batman’s response didn’t come from the back of the truck, as Robin was expecting, but from the cab.  Batman had climbed over the wedged truck to look at the driver.

“These two aren’t,” Batman said, “Is he talking?”

Robin looked back down at the mangled man, wondering if the barely-breathing mess of broken human would ever talk again, “Not until he’s had a few months in intensive care.”

Robin hopped out of the truck, and was met by Batman a second later, behind the truck.

“Not what we were hoping for, Batman.”

“No,” Batman said, “but they won’t be robbing any more banks.”

“Are we sure that’s what happened,” Robin asked.

“What do you mean, Robin,” Batman asked.

Robin pointed at the back of the truck, “Well, look at the money bags.  These aren’t bank bags.  These are just plain black duffel bags.”

Batman walked back to the truck and opened one of the bags.  Rifling through the contents, Batman said, “Hmm.  None of the money is banded.  This is all just loose bills.  They must have stolen the truck from somewhere, and used it as a base for robberies.”

Robin stroked his chin, not really buying Batman’s explanation.  “There must be thirty or forty bags in there.  That’s a lot of robberies.  Why haven’t we heard anything about a robbery spree of this size?”

Batman dropped the bag and turned back to Robin, “I’m open to other explanations.”

Robin sighed, “I wish I had one.  We need more information.”

Commissioner Gordon approached the Dynamic Duo after arriving in one of the first patrol cars on scene and asked, “What do we have here?”

“A mystery,” Robin said.

“They misjudged the size of the alley,” Batman said, “There’s one survivor in the back; the rest weren’t so lucky.  This isn’t looking like a bank heist anymore, Commissioner.  We need these men identified as soon as possible.”

Gordon nodded, “I’ll get our techs on it as soon as the Medical Examiner gets here.”

An officer approached the trio and said, “The tow truck is going to be a minute.  They pulled onto the wrong street, thinking they could drag the truck out by the front.”

Robin failed in trying to hide his laugh.  Commissioner Gordon shook his head, “Tell them to wait.  The Medical Examiner needs to get the bodies out first.”

The officer walked away to head off the tow truck driver.  Commissioner Gordon turned to Robin and asked, “What is the mystery about a smash and grab crew?”

Robin shrugged, “I’m not so sure they are one.  There is a lot of money in that truck.”

“It’s an armored truck, Robin,” Gordon said, “Of course there is a lot of money in there.”

“None of it is from a bank,” Batman said.

“Hence, a robbery crew,” the Commissioner said.

Robin shook his head, “There are at least thirty duffel bags full of cash in there.  If this is a robbery crew, why didn’t we hear about the increase in criminal activity that would account for that much money?”

“What the hell?  LOOK OUT!”

The trio heard the scream and looked up in time to see the fire trail of a rocket as it slammed into the hood of the armored truck.  The explosion was deafening, but the shock wave was worse.  Batman and Gordon were knocked off their feet.  Robin, weighing much less than either adult, was thrown backwards five feet.  The armored truck blew apart in all directions.  Burning money rained down on the alley.

Batman shook his head as he got to his feet and looked around.  On the roof of an apartment building across the street, movement caught Batman’s eye.

“Robin, it’s him!  Let’s go!”

No response came to Batman’s call.  Batman turned to see that Robin was still down.  Batman slid down next to Robin.  A trickle of blood was leaking from just above Robin’s hairline, down his cheek.

“Robin?  Don’t do this.  Wake up.”

Robin moaned and said softly, “Damn, that hurt.  I’m okay, Batman.  Go get him.”

Batman shook his head, “I’ll get him later.  I need to get you home.”

Robin sat up slowly, his hand migrating to hold his aching head, “It’s Red Hood, right?  You can’t let a guy with a rocket launcher run loose around town.  I’m okay; go get him.  I’ll wait in the car.”

Robin pushed weakly against Batman’s chest, trying to get the man moving.  Batman looked sadly at the hand pressing against his chest, “Are you sure?”

“GO,” Robin said emphatically, “Don’t let him get away.”

Batman stared at his son for another second before drawing his grapnel gun and firing his line.  Batman was pulled to the top of an apartment building.  He looked down to see Robin stagger over to the Batmobile and get in.  As the canopy closed, Batman looked across the street.  He found his quarry jumping to another rooftop, three buildings south from where Batman originally spotted him.

_So, that’s the Red Hood.  I think he just showed which side he’s on.  It’s not a mistake he’ll ever make again._

Batman keyed his radio and he moved off in pursuit of his target, “Nightwing, where are you?”

It took a long second before Nightwing answered, “Batman, is that you?  I can barely hear you.”

“Where are you,” Batman asked again.

“I’m on the west side of Bludhaven.  Why?”

_Damn, that’s too far away.  This should all be over before he could even approach the outskirts of Gotham._   “Never mind,” Batman growled.

“What happened,” Nightwing asked.

Batman sighted his target ahead and said, “I’m chasing Red Hood.  He just tried to kill Robin and me.  He fired a rocket at our crime scene.”

Nightwing gasped, “Oh my god.  Are you two alright?”

“I’m fine,” Batman said, “Robin was hit by flying debris.  He has a gash to his scalp.”

“He’s not…” Nightwing started in an accusing tone before Batman interrupted him.

“Robin is in the car.”

“How far away are you?”

“Not far,” Batman said, “I can see him a couple buildings ahead.  He’s definitely had some kind of training.  Nightwing, I can’t lose another Robin.  If this guy is bringing heavy weaponry into the mix, he needs to go down, hard.”

“You’ll get him, Batman,” Robin said.

Batman gasped, “Robin!”

“You’re on an open line,” Robin said sheepishly.

“How do you feel, Rob,” Nightwing asked.

“I have a headache, but the bleeding stopped.”

“Stay in the car, Little Brother,” Nightwing said, “You’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

“We’ll see,” Robin said.

Batman leapt to the next rooftop before stopping cold.  “Lost visual,” Batman said over the radio.

“I told you, he’s good,” Nightwing said.

“I’m _not_ losing him,” Batman said forcefully as he continued forward.

Batman jumped to the next building and slowed his pace.  _This was the last rooftop I saw him on.  The only way he could have gotten away is to go to ground.  He must have slipped into the alley up ahead._

“You’re looking for the wrong man, Batman.”

Batman spun at the call from behind him.  Batman was shocked to see Red Hood leaning against a brick staircase enclosure as casually as if he were waiting for a bus.

Batman glared at the tall man, but stopped himself from attacking.  There was something in Red Hood’s voice.  “Am I?”

“Yes, you are.”

Batman stared at the completely covered mystery in front of him, “Are you telling me that you _aren’t_ the man who fired a rocket into my crime scene?  That’s not a popcorn maker you’re holding.”

Red Hood looked down at the weapon in his left hand.  If Batman could have seen Red Hood’s face, he would have seen a smile there.  “It’s a surplus Russian RPG-7, actually.  You’re right, it won’t make popcorn.”

“No, it will make a mess of my crime scene,” Batman growled, “Tell me why I shouldn’t be taking you in right now?”

Red Hood looked back up at Batman, “For one, you can’t catch me.  The only reason you caught up to me now is because I wanted you to.”

“Why is that?”

“To tell you that you’re hunting the wrong man,” Red Hood said.

“You said that before,” Batman said, “Yet, you are the one who tried to kill me tonight.”

Red Hood sighed audibly, “Do you really think you’d be alive right now if I wanted to kill you?  I waited until you were away from the armored truck before blowing it up.”

“Am I supposed to thank you for that?”

Red Hood shook his head, “That would be too far out of character for you.”

“And you know that how,” Batman asked.

“Let’s just say that I know, and leave it at that, for now.”  Batman didn’t like that answer, but Red Hood changed the subject before Batman could think about it too much, “Have you ever heard of Black Mask?”

Batman thought for a second, “Self-appointed criminal kingpin of Crime Alley.  Mostly a small-time drug and arms dealer.  Why do you ask?  Are you working for him?”

Red Hood snorted, “Not a chance.  Black Mask’s dealers think it’s okay to make money by getting kids addicted to drugs.  I’ll be damned if that’s going to continue in _my_ hometown.”

_Why does that sound so familiar?_   “What does that have to do with high explosives and an armored truck?”

Batman could tell that Red Hood seemed to be enjoying this conversation, “That wasn’t a stolen truck, it belonged to Black Mask.  Those were his men.  That’s how he collects and transports his extortion money, drug money, weapons, you name it.  Thanks for chasing them down for me; I’ve been tracking this group for a week.”

“Did you have to kill them,” Batman asked.

Red Hood turned his head, seemingly in surprise.  It’s hard to tell emotions when you can’t see a face.  “You mean they survived the crash?”

Batman shrugged, “One of them did, until you took a shot at the truck.”

Red Hood gave a matching shrug, “They chose to work for Black Mask.  They should have known the risks in doing something like that.”

“Why blow up the truck,” Batman asked.

“To send a message,” Red Hood said, “I’m taking Black Mask’s organization apart, one piece at a time.  That truck should have had close to five million dollars in it.  That will put a dent in Black Mask’s operation.”

Red Hood turned to leave.  Batman said, “You know I can’t just let you walk away.”

“You can’t stop me, either,” Red Hood said, “I know you too well.”

_Awfully cocky.  Why do I get the feeling that he isn’t just trying to sound important?_   “Freeze, Red Hood.”

“Good night, old man.  See you around.”

Red Hood dropped the rocket launcher and started to walk around the stair enclosure.  Batman followed, unsure why this man had been able to walk away from him.

“Batman told you to stop.”

Batman stifled a gasp at the voice he heard.  _Robin?  Why are you up here?  You should be in the car._

Batman looked around the enclosure to find Robin standing in Red Hood’s path.  The hooded man was shaking as he stared at Robin.

In a low voice, Red Hood said slowly, “What.  The _fuck_.  Are you?”

No response was made.  Red Hood balled his left hand into a fist, while drawing a pistol with his right.  He turned to Batman and shouted, “What the fuck is this?”

With the man’s back turned, Robin took two steps forward, to try to disarm the man.  Without looking, Red Hood held out the pistol behind him, with the barrel pointing directly between Robin’s eyes.

“Don’t even think about it, you…you fucking _replacement!_   Answer me, Batman.  What the _fuck_ is going on?”

Batman eyed the gun, “You claim to know so much about Batman, yet know nothing about Robin?”

“I know everything there is to know about Robin,” Red Hood spat, “I don’t know what the hell _he_ is, but he _isn’t_ _Robin_!”

_This isn’t going to end well,_ Batman thought.  _Why is he so triggered now?  And why does his voice sound so familiar?_

“Robin, stand down,” Batman commanded.

Red Hood turned back to face Robin, “No, Robin.  Step up.  You think you can wear that uniform?  Let’s see how well you can earn that R.”

Robin reached for his belt and drew a collapsible staff.  Extending it with a spin, Robin grinned at Red Hood, “If you want.”

Red Hood took aim at Robin’s head, “Never bring a stick to a gun fight.”

Batman threw a batarang at Red Hood’s hand, causing his shot to sail wide.  Robin rushed forward and stabbed his staff at Red Hood’s stomach, like a spear.  Red Hood easily pushed the staff out of the way, then spun and launched a kick at Robin’s head.  Robin ducked, and Red Hood rolled forward, to dodge the punch Batman aimed at the back of his head.

Robin was waiting, and sent a strong front kick into Red Hood’s chest.  Red Hood let it land, knowing that it was helping him to keep Robin between himself and Batman.  Robin followed up the kick with a swing from his staff.  It connected, but didn’t have the desired effect.  The staff made firm contact with Red Hood’s helmet, splintering the end of the carbon fiber staff.

Batman and Robin couldn’t see the smile on Red Hood’s face, but they could hear it in his voice.  “If that’s all you got, you won’t last long as Robin.”

“What’s it matter to you, criminal,” Robin spat.

“Keep that up and I’ll end you myself,” Red Hood said coldly.

“Give it up,” Batman said, standing next to Robin, “You can’t win.”

“I already have,” Red Hood said.

Red Hood held up a finger to show the safety pin from a grenade hanging from the digit.  Batman and Robin’s eyes widened under their masks, and they looked around for the explosive when they heard a metallic clang.  Looking down, they saw a green pineapple grenade at Robin’s feet.  Red Hood had hooked the explosive device to the young sidekick’s utility belt and pulled the pin.  Robin’s movements were enough to cause the spring-loaded spoon to activate the timer.

Knowing they had no more than five seconds before the grenade detonated, Batman grabbed Robin, picked the teen up, and jumped off of the edge of the building.  The grenade exploded as Batman’s grapple line caught the wall of the building across the street and pulled the Dynamic Duo to safety.

Batman looked over at the now-flaming rooftop, for some sign of Red Hood.  As expected, there was none.

Batman quickly lowered himself and Robin to the ground.  He then turned Robin every which way he could, looking for more explosive traps.

Robin held the grenade spoon in his hand and stared at it numbly.  “How did he do that, Batman,” Robin asked quietly, “I didn’t think he got close enough to touch me.”

“It must have been when he rolled past you to avoid my attack.  Did he hurt you?”

Robin shook his head, “No.  He scared the hell out of me, though.”

_Me, too,_ Batman couldn’t say out loud.  “Let’s go.  It’s time we got you home.”

The Batmobile rolled through the streets of Gotham, and Batman asked, “Why didn’t you stay in the car?  You’re wounded.”

“You left your radio open and your trackers on,” Robin said, “When I saw you getting farther away on the screen, I followed you.  I didn’t know if you would need me.”

“I could have handled him,” Batman said.

“Then why did you call for Nightwing,” Robin asked.

Batman glanced over, “I wanted him to come and stay with you.”

Robin shook his head, “He wouldn’t have done that, not with heavy weapons in the mix.  As much as Nightwing loves me, he wouldn’t let you face that alone; and neither would I.”

Batman remained silent for a second before asking, “Is that why you showed up on the roof?”

Robin nodded, “That, and what he was saying.  Batman, do you believe him?”

“About what,” Batman asked.

Robin sighed, “Where did he get his information?  It sounds like he knows more than he let on, and he let on that he knows a lot.”

“Yes, he did,” Batman said, “I would like an answer to that question myself.”

“You recorded everything, right,” Robin asked.

“Of course,” Batman said, “Why?”

“We should go over everything he said,” Robin said, “Maybe he left us a clue to who he is?”

_Red Hood’s voice did sound awfully familiar.  I can’t place it, though._ “We’ll do that, but not tonight.  We need to get you checked out and in bed.  You have a busy day tomorrow.”

Robin sighed, “Yeah.  I hope Agent A can make my head not look like someone took an axe to it.  I don’t think I will be considered for the internship if I wear a hat to the interview.”

“Do you know what hit you,” Batman asked.

Robin snorted, trying not to laugh, “Yeah.  I found it laying next to my head.  Apparently, being an underworld enforcer gets boring at times.  I got hit in the head by a Gameboy.”

Batman barely stopped his smile, “Agent A keeps telling you that those videogames are bad for you.”

Robin sighed heavily, “Can we just get home?  I have enough of a headache without you trying to make jokes.”

“We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

_A Few Minutes Later…_

“Hold still, Master Timothy.  You know I do not like it when you come home injured.”

Tim sighed, “I know, Alfred.  I’m sorry.”

“What’s your cover story, pal,” Bruce asked.

Tim turned his head to look at Bruce, causing Alfred to roll his eyes.  “I was changing the oil in my car and hit my head on the edge of the hood.”

Bruce nodded, “That’s believable, until they ask why my son is changing his own oil.”

Tim shook his head, “They don’t know I’m your son.  I didn’t put any mention of it on my application.”

“Are you ready for the interview,” Bruce asked.

“I think so,” Tim said before blushing, “I’m nervous, Bruce.”

Bruce smiled, “It’s okay, Tim.  You have nothing to be nervous about.  I looked into who is doing the intern interviews tomorrow.  They’re nice people, Tim.  You don’t have anything to worry about.”

Tim sighed, “Bruce, you _promised_ me you would stay out of it.”

“I am,” Bruce said, trying to calm his son, “All I did was look at the schedule.  I didn’t talk to anyone about it.”

“What about Jean,” Tim asked.

“What do you mean?”

Tim rolled his eyes, “I know you, Bruce.  You asked Jean to get the schedule for you.  I’m pretty sure she can figure out why you wanted to see it.”

_He’s right,_ Bruce thought.  _Jean looks out for me and the family almost as much as Alfred does._   “I’m sure she didn’t say anything to anyone, either, Tim.”  _I hope._

Tim took a breath and nodded, “Okay.  I don’t need anyone else out to get me.”

Alfred finished cleaning the cut to Tim’s head and asked, “Who is out to get you, Master Timothy?”

“This new Red Hood guy, apparently,” Tim said, “He saw me on the roof tonight and flipped out.”

“I’m sure there’s more to it than we know, son,” Bruce said, “He isn’t out to get you.”

Tim turned and stared blankly at Bruce, “How can you say that?  He yelled at me for being Robin, then stuck a grenade in my utility belt.”  Alfred gasped and placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder comfortingly.  “If that doesn’t scream ‘out to get me’, I don’t know what does.”

“We’ll figure it out tomorrow, pal,” Bruce said, “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Tim sighed and stood.  Bruce wrapped an arm around Tim’s shoulders, and the teen said, “That sounds like a good idea.  Good night, Alfred.”

 

**A/N:  Hello.**

**This wasn’t the chapter I was originally planning.  Apparently, I’m changing things from my last outline.  That means there will now be two main problems in this story.  I wasn’t planning for that, but it’s happening now.  What I originally had planned for chapter two is now becoming chapter four.  I already had an outline that I liked for chapter three, and I don’t want to change that at this time, so the story will get an extra chapter or two.  I didn’t think anyone would mind.**

**I’d love to hear what everyone thinks, and if anyone is interested in this story.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	3. 3

Houses

Chapter 3

 

“Timothy?”

Tim smiled as he stood and walked towards the office.  Tim had been sitting in a fifth-floor lobby in Wayne Tower, waiting for his interview, for close to an hour.  His appointment had originally been scheduled for nine-thirty.  Now, at ten-twenty, they were finally getting to him.  Tim couldn’t help but notice that three other applicants, who had all arrived after him, had been interviewed first.  Tim didn’t let this bother him, and gave a pleasant smile as he was directed to a chair in the office.

On the other side of the desk sat two people, a woman in her late forties and a man in his mid-twenties.  It didn’t do anything for Tim’s nerves that neither of them was smiling.

The woman stood up as Tim was sitting down.  Tim did his best not to look like an idiot as he sprang back to his feet, Alfred’s etiquette lessons taking over.

“I’m Margaret Graham, head of Wayne Tech.  This is Joel Moreno, our intern coordinator.  Please, sit down.”

Tim sat slowly, and Joel leaned forward, “So, Timothy, explain to me why we should continue with this interview.”

Tim hid his grimace.  _They must have found someone they like for the internship already.  That means this interview is just a courtesy, then.  Oh well, it was worth a shot._

Tim put on a mildly confused look, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

Joel opened a folder and pulled out a printout of Tim’s application, “You lied on your application, Timothy.  That’s grounds for us to not even consider you for the position.”

_Then, why am I here?_   Tim’s eyes narrowed a bit, “What did I lie about?”

“Several things, actually,” Joel said, pulling more papers out of his folder.  “Your application sounded too good to be true, so we did a bit of research.  Your high school transcripts told us a lot.  The most important thing it told us was your real name.”

_Damn._   Tim shrugged, trying to play it off, “So, I didn’t include the hyphen on the application.”

“That’s a rather important hyphen, Mr. Wayne, don’t you think,” Margaret asked.

Tim shook his head, “I don’t go by Wayne.”

“Was it just supposed to never come up,” Margaret asked.

“Ideally,” Tim said.

“Explain,” Margaret said, “Then, we’ll decide what happens next.”

Tim sighed again, “If, somehow, I were to get this internship, I didn’t want anyone thinking the only reason I got it is because of where I live.”

“And, just to be clear,” Joel said, “Where it that?”

Tim looked down for a second, “In the home of my adoptive father.  The same man who runs this company.”

“So, you see our issue,” Margaret said.”

“Yes, I do.”

“How should we solve it,” Joel asked.

Tim sighed again, “If this is going to be such a big problem, I’ll withdraw my application.  I had hoped it wouldn’t be an issue.  I’m sorry to have wasted your time.  Don’t worry, I’ll just tell Bruce that you found a more qualified applicant.”

Tim rose and headed for the door when Joel asked, “Why did you come here today, Timothy?”

Tim stopped, but didn’t look at the interviewers, “To interview for an internship.”

“Why,” Margaret asked.

Tim turned around, “I’m very interested in the tech fields and computers.  I wanted some real-world experience.”

“Yes, but why interview,” Margaret asked, “You could have just asked Mr. Wayne to have us give you the internship.”

Tim nodded, “Yes, I could, but that’s not me.  If I’m going to do something, I’m going to earn it on my own.  That’s why I didn’t put his name on my application.”

Margaret stared at Tim for a second before asking, “If we consider you for this internship, what guarantee would we have that Mr. Wayne wouldn’t be breathing down our necks?”

Tim smiled, “You obviously know Bruce well.  I can’t guarantee that.  Bruce is very overprotective, but I’ve made him promise to stay out of this.  I didn’t want him knowing what was going on, so I could try to earn this on my own.  I didn’t even tell Bruce I had applied for an internship until the day before yesterday.”

“So, you’re doing this behind Mr. Wayne’s back,” Joel asked.

Tim shrugged, “I was.  Like I said, he knows now.”

Margaret and Joel looked at each other for a long second before Margaret said, “Sit down, Timothy.  We have a lot to talk about.”

Tim gave a smile as he resumed his seat.  Joel looked back at Tim’s application and asked, “Shall we go over your other lies now?”

“I didn’t lie about anything else,” Tim said, “And, my name wasn’t really a lie.”

Joel pointed to both papers in front of him, “You list your GPA as a 4.0, yet your transcript lists your GPA as a 4.7.”

“That’s not my fault,” Tim said, “The electronic application didn’t give an option to enter anything higher than a 4.0.  I kept getting error messages when I tried to type it in.  It’s not a lie, it’s just the closest I could get.”

Joel smiled, “That’s never been a problem before.  I guess we should plan better for honor students.  Did you really graduate high school in two years?”

Tim smiled, “You have my transcripts right in front of you.”

“When do you start college,” Joel asked.

“I’ve been taking online classes for a year now.  I hope to graduate in another year or two.”

Margaret nodded and slid a paper across the table, “Okay, let’s get down to it.  I really only have one question for you.  Read that over, please.”

Tim read the paper twice before looking up again.  Margaret asked, “Well, what do you think?”

_This is obviously a test.  Is this really the main portion of the interview?_   “I think it’s a good idea.”

Joel looked at Tim strangely, “You do?”

“Yes,” Tim said, putting the paper down again, “If you want to kill people and cause the business to fail.”

“Why would that happen,” Margaret asked with a knowing smile.

_Yep, it was a test.  Let’s see if I caught all of the errors._   “These specs sound impressive, but they won’t work.  First of all, you’ve got European standards going into a, presumably, American machine.  The power ratings are incompatible.  You’ve done nothing to address cooling.  That combination will start fires, which will lead to injuries and lawsuits.  This isn’t a project tech is looking to produce, is it?”

Margaret gave a genuine smile, “This is a test, to see where your level of technical expertise lies.  Pointing out the flaws you just did shows that you know at least as much as our entry-level employees.  Do you know what this kind of internship is for, Mr. Wayne?”

Tim shook his head, “It’s Mr. Drake.  I’m assuming it is to gain experience.”

“Do you want a job here,” Joel asked.

“If you’re offering, I should remind you that I’m only sixteen years old,” Tim said with a smile.  “Bruce has told me all along that Wayne Enterprises won’t hire someone until they’re eighteen.”

Both Joel and Margaret smiled at the teen.  Margaret said, “You are the last interview we have scheduled for this opening.  You are also the first one to point out the flaws in the schematics.”

Tim looked at the interviewers strangely, “I’m the _only_ one who noticed?”

“Or, the only one who spoke up when asked for an opinion,” Joel said, “That shows you aren’t afraid of the office environment.”

Tim blushed, “I’m normally very quiet, but doing a good job is important.”

“You have an employee mindset, Timothy,” Margaret said.

“You can call me Tim,” he said.

Margaret nodded, “We’ll let you know our final decision on Monday, when we officially offer you the internship, but you seem to be the only qualified applicant we’ve interviewed.”

“You aren’t just offering me this because of Bruce, are you,” Tim asked.

Joel shook his head, “No.  I think you’re the best person for the job.  It seems that Margaret does, too.”

Tim released a relieved sigh, “Thank you.”

“It’s not official until Monday,” Margaret said, “but welcome aboard, Tim.”

Tim stood and shook hands with Joel and Margaret, “Thank you.  I look forward to the official notification.”

“Are you off to tell the boss the good news,” Joel asked with a smile.

Tim returned the smile, “I won’t see him until later this afternoon.  I have a couple more interviews today.”

Margaret looked at Tim strangely, “How many internships did you apply for?”

Tim laughed, “Just this one.  I’m taking a business writing class.  I need to interview people for a couple papers I’m writing.”

“Who are you interviewing,” Joel asked.

“Dick Grayson and Lucius Fox.”

“How did you nab those interviews,” Margaret asked.

Tim winked, “Using the same means I didn’t want to use to get this internship.  Well, at least with Mr. Fox.  I can talk to Dick anytime.  I just have a couple hours to kill before my appointment with Mr. Fox, so Dick is taking me to lunch.”

Margaret eyed Tim, “So, you only use your connections when it suits you?”

Tim looked blankly at the woman, “Doesn’t everybody?”

Margaret shrugged, “I guess so.  I’ll be in touch.”

Tim left the office and headed for the elevator, switching his visitor badge for his all-access badge, which he pulled out of his pocket.  Once in the elevator, Tim hit the button for the floor of Dick’s office before sagging tiredly against the wall.

_Holy crap, that was hard.  This is why I hate doing interviews.  It would have been so much easier to rely on Bruce to get me the internship.  No, that’s exactly why I did it this way.  I don’t know if I got this because I passed their little test, or because I didn’t go through Bruce.  Wait…how did they get my school records?  Those have to be requested by me…or family._

Tim jammed his finger on the button for the top floor, ignoring when the door opened two floors below.  Arriving at the Executive level, Tim stepped out of the elevator and stormed towards Bruce’s office door.

Jean, Bruce’s secretary, smiled at the teen and said, “He’s waiting for you.”

“Yeah, I’ll _bet_ he is,” Tim spat as he shoved Bruce’s office door open.

Bruce sat at his desk with a bemused smile as Tim stormed up to the desk.

“What did you do,” Tim demanded.

Bruce leaned forward, “I only did what was asked of me.”

“They already called you, didn’t they,” Bruce just arched an eyebrow as Tim continued, “I specifically asked you to stay out of this, Bruce.”

“Then you should have asked me sooner,” Bruce said seriously.

“What do you mean,” Tim asked.

“Imagine my surprise when I got a call from the intern committee two weeks ago, asking for information about the frontrunner for the Tech internship.”

“They called you,” Tim asked, confused, “Why?”

Bruce took a breath, “You said you didn’t want me involved, but you listed my cell phone number under the required parental contact section.  Like I said, they were very interested in you before they talked to me.  They thought they were calling a juvenile intern’s parents, not the CEO of Wayne Enterprises.  All I gave them was a copy of your high school transcripts, like they asked.  I stayed out of everything else, like you asked.  You have no one to be mad at here, Tim.”

Tim looked down, “You mean, they want me for me?”

Bruce grew a smile, “Did you get the internship?”

“They said they would let me know officially on Monday,” Tim said distractedly, “but they unofficially welcomed me aboard.”

The phone on Bruce’s desk rang, and Bruce picked up the handset, “Bruce Wayne.”

Bruce smiled at Tim, then spoke to his caller, “Hi, Margaret…Oh, was that today?...Well, I suppose…No, I haven’t talked to him yet…You do, huh?...Well, I guess…When…What sort of projects are coming his way?...Really?  He’ll love that…How did the interview go?...Really?  The only one?...I guess that would make him stand out…Thank you for letting me know…Goodbye, Margaret.”

Bruce hung up the phone, and Tim asked softly, “They really do want me?”

Bruce stood and walked around the desk, “You were the only one to pass their test, and you were the only one who bothered to wear a suit to the interview.  You say you don’t interview well, but you handled this one just fine.  I’m proud of you, son.”

Bruce pulled Tim into a warm hug, then watched over Tim’s shoulder as his office door opened and closed.  Dick approached the hugging pair, and stopped several feet behind Tim.

Bruce mouthed, _He got it_ , bringing a smile to Dick’s face.

Dick cleared his throat, “Come on, Mr. Drake.  We had an appointment.  Your Big Mac is getting cold.”

Bruce let go of his son and said, “I think we can do better than that today.  My treat.”

Tim looked up and said, “I really do need to have Dick complete an interview for my paper, though.”

Dick shrugged, “Bring it along.  I can answer questions at a nice restaurant just as well as I can with take-out in my office.”

_After Lunch…_

“I’m sorry, Mr. Fox.  He’s not here yet.”

Lucius stroked his chin, “That’s odd.  I’ve never known any of the Wayne’s to be late.  Bruce is usually the one pressing for meetings to begin and end on time.  Thanks, Mary.  Send him straight in when he gets here.”

Lucius decided to check his email while he waited for, what he thought, would be the most enjoyable item on his schedule today.  He opened an email, but only read the greeting before a flushed and flustered teen ran into his office, and nearly doubled over in his effort to catch his breath.

Tim held up a hand and panted out, “I’m sorry…Mr. Fox…I told…Bruce and Dick…to eat…faster.”

Lucius smiled and waved away the apology, “It’s okay, Tim.  Please, take a seat, before you fall over.  You look like you ran up the stairs.  We have elevators, you know.”

Tim slumped into a chair and took several breaths.  “I know.  I got here as fast as I could.  I know your time is important.  Thank you for taking the time out of your schedule to see me today.”

Lucius shrugged, “I heard you were in the building.  Good job scheduling everything for one day.  It saves time and trips that way.”

Tim nodded as the color started to recede from his cheeks, “So, he told you, too, huh?”

“Just that you had an interview for an internship.  How did it go?”

Tim smiled, “I got it.”

“Good job, Tim,” Lucius said.

“It’s not official until Monday,” Tim said, “I hope they didn’t just give it to me because Bruce adopted me.”

“I’m sure they didn’t, Tim,” Lucius said, leaning back in his chair.  “So, why are we here today?”

Tim reached into his bag and pulled out a notebook and a pen.  Getting down to business, Tim said, “We’re here because you’re the CFO of Wayne Enterprises.  That is a very important position, and I’m sure it comes with a lot of paperwork.  I am writing a paper for a class on business writing, and I was hoping to talk to you today about the various types of correspondence that are required in your position.”

Lucius smiled at the teen, “Has anyone ever told you that you are too serious for sixteen years old?”

“All the time,” Tim said, matching the smile.  “I guess my first question should be, do you do any of your own correspondence, or is it all handled by your assistant?”

Lucius leaned forward, “It’s a combination, actually.  I do the first drafts, and Mary makes it look pretty and sound professional.”

Tim scribbled notes in his notebook, “What does most of your professional writing consist of?”

Lucius gave a large smile, “Oh, you know, a lot of the things everyone else’s writing consists of.  You know, nouns and verbs, stuff like that.”

Tim started writing before his hand froze, and he glanced up, “Nouns and verbs?”

“The occasional adjective gets thrown in, from time to time,” Lucius said with a laugh.

Tim hid his eyeroll, “Please, Mr. Fox.  I don’t want to waste any more of your time than I have to.  I know you’re busy.”

Lucius leaned his chair back, “This is, by far, the most enjoyable thing on my schedule today, Tim.  You’ve got an hour of my time.  I don’t even take that long for my lunch break.”

“That’s more incentive to get this done quickly,” Tim said with a smile, “If we get done early, you can take a break.”

Lucius returned the smile, “Most of my writing is creating aggregates of reports from others.  I look at a lot of spreadsheets and summaries of spreadsheets, and interpret the data to present in front of the board.”

Tim asked, “So, you take other people’s reports and data and make it understandable for others?  That must take a lot of time.”

Lucius nodded, “It does, but most of my work takes place around the quarterly report time.”

Tim turned a page in his notebook, “You’re responsible for the financial health of the company, for the most part.  If things aren’t going well, financially, how do you alert people to that, or what do you do to try to change that?”

_That’s a very astute question,_ Lucius thought.  “If it’s a sharp decline, that will usually be taken care of in person.  We have a lot of meetings around here.”

“I know,” Tim said quietly, thinking of all the times he had wanted to spend time with Bruce, only to be told that he’s in a meeting.

“Ups and downs are to be expected in the business world,” Lucius said, “We can’t treat every dip in the stock price as a harbinger of doom.  This is where I have to do my most persuasive writing.  We have to be able to phrase any losses as part of the plan and turn them into ways for improvement.”

Tim looked up in confusion, “You plan for losses?”

“You always have to plan for losses, Tim,” Lucius said, “Not every business venture is going to be successful.”

“I realize that,” Tim said, “How does that work, though?”

Lucius leaned forward, “Every project we approve must have an Economic Impact Report attached to it.  That shows how much a project is going to cost, how much we could earn if it is successful, and how much the company could lose if it fails.”

“Do you write those reports,” Tim asked.

Lucius shook his head, “No.  For those reports, I’m usually on the other side.  As the CFO, and along with the CEO, we have final say on which projects get greenlit and which ones are denied.”

Tim nodded, “Okay.  Earlier you mentioned having to do some persuasive writing.  Can you give me an example of that?”

Lucius thought for a second, “Sure.  A few years back, we partnered with a German telecommunications company, to try to make inroads in a new market.  Wayne Enterprises had never been involved in telecom up until that point.  It turned out that our expectations were different than theirs.  We had been looking to get into cellular devices and services, while the company we got involved with was looking to get out of phone service and focus on entertainment.  They were actually looking into getting into movie production.  We found pretty quickly that our goals and expectations weren’t going to match up.  Fortunately for us, the other company came to the same conclusion, and we parted ways amicably.  We found another company that was more in line with what we were looking for, and began a new partnership.

“Now, that might sound like everything worked out, but that failed deal cost the company a lot of money, and there were a lot of nervous employees.  We put out a company-wide notice to explain the situation.  We didn’t just phrase it as ‘we lost a big contract, and times are going to be tough for a while’.  We owned up to making a bad business decision, but we also informed everyone that a new deal would be coming soon, and that our focus hadn’t changed.”

“When one door closes, another one opens,” Tim said.

Lucius nodded, “That’s exactly the tone we wanted to take.  It worked, too.  It took a while, but employee confidence returned, and the new contract paid off.  Open and honest communication helped to focus the entire company to put this behind us and move on.”

Tim scribbled down notes as a smile came across his face, “That is great.  I just have a couple more questions.  How long have you been with Wayne Enterprises?”

“Twenty-four years,” Lucius said, “Longer than Bruce, if you’re wondering.  I started much the same way you seem to be going.  I had an internship in the finance department, turned it into a job, and worked my way up.”

Tim smirked, “I think I can do that.  Last question.  How has electronic communication changed how you write for business?”

“Oh, it’s been huge,” Lucius said, “It makes communicating over long distances so much easier.  It allows more people to be on the same page at the same time.  It changes the way we do business.  Wayne Enterprises would not be able to grow the way we have in the last few years without it.”

Tim made a couple last notes before looking up with a smile, “Thank you, Mr. Fox.  You’ve been very helpful and accommodating.  Thank you for your time today.”

Lucius smiled, “You’re welcome, Tim.  Glad I could be of help.  What’s next for you?”

Tim put his notebook away and said, “This is all for today.  I’ll put my notes together into my paper over the weekend.  Other than that, I have an internship to prepare for.”

Lucius nodded, “Well, I wish you luck with it all.  I’m sure I’ll hear all about it from Bruce.”

“If not, I’ll try to stop up and say hi every now and then.  Thanks again, Mr. Fox.”

Tim shook Lucius’ hand and left the office.  He stood in the lobby for a second, wondering what to do next.  _I think I scheduled too much for today.  I’m starting to get a headache.  Still, everything went right today.  I’m done early.  Should I go see Dick, or just go to see Bruce?  Bruce.  If nothing else, I can take a nap on his couch until he’s ready to go home._

Entering the top floor, Tim slipped into Bruce’s office.  He looked around and found the room empty.  Tim shrugged and dropped his bag next to the couch before going to check the calendar on Bruce’s computer.  It showed that Bruce was currently in a meeting with the chairman of the Wayne Foundation, and would be gone for another hour and a half.

_The Wayne Foundation.  Bruce told me he had a meeting with them sometime this week.  What did he say it was about again?  Oh, yeah.  That’s right.  They are looking into funding an orphanage in Crime Alley.  That would be the kind of charity work Bruce would like.  He definitely has a thing for orphans.  I wonder what it would be like to work with the Foundation?_

Tim picked up the newspaper from Bruce’s desk and read the headline, which was a story on a building explosion last night.  Tim shook his head.  _I’m glad no one was hurt in that blast.  That Red Hood guy doesn’t care about anything, it seems.  He definitely has an agenda.  Why would he target me, though?  He was walking away from Batman when I showed up.  He wasn’t looking for a fight until he saw me.  And what was with all that stuff about knowing everything there is to know about Robin?  It almost sounded like…like he was Robin.  I thought there had only been two other Robins.  Jason is dead, that means…no, it can’t be.  I can’t believe I would even think something like this._

_Is Dick the Red Hood?_

 

**A/N: Okay, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I started this chapter.  I think this one lost its way a bit.  It was always meant to be a shorter, filler chapter.  I’m not exactly happy with it, but there is always one chapter in my longer works that I’m not happy with.  Hopefully this is the only one in this work.  I know that so far this seems like a retelling of Under the Red Hood.  I’m trying not to do that.  Next chapter will have the beginnings of the original issue I had planned for this story.  I’m quite a ways away from my outline at this point.  What I’ve done so far is so far away from my original outline that it could be two different stories.  I’ll try to get back on track.**

**I’d love to know what everyone thinks so far.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	4. 4

Houses

Chapter 4

 

Robin ran through an alley in pursuit of a petty thief.  He found it was good exercise to dodge around garbage cans and jump over boxes in pursuit of a suspect.  After his stressful afternoon, Robin wanted to blow off some nervous energy, and a chase through the streets of west Gotham was doing him some good.

The thief looked back at Robin with fear on his face.  His crime, stealing a couple bags of chips from a convenience store, was completely beneath Robin’s time and energy, but the kid couldn’t have been older than Robin, and he hoped to be able to scare the kid straight.

“Stop chasing me,” the kid shouted desperately.

“Stop running,” Robin shouted back.

“I can’t,” the kid cried out, “I don’t want to go to jail.”

“We can work that out,” Robin said, jumping over a trash can the kid knocked down in passing, “Just stop!”

The kid didn’t stop.

“Someone help me,” the boy cried.

“I’m trying to help you,” Robin called back.

The Boy Wonder put on a burst of speed to catch up to the thief, then jumped and dove at the boy’s back.  Robin’s hands made contact with the boy’s shoulder blades.  The extra weight knocked the thief forward, offsetting his balance and sending him to the dirty pavement.  Robin used his momentum to flip himself forward in a front handspring before sliding to a stop and turning back to the fallen boy.

The kid looked up and flinched as Robin walked back to him.  “Don’t hurt me.  Please!  I’m sorry I stole the chips.  I’m hungry.  I haven’t eaten in two days.”

Robin crouched down in front of the cowering boy, “That store reported you stealing from them everyday for the last week.”

The kid wiped his nose, “I didn’t steal it for me.  I got it for my sister.”

Robin sighed and sat down, “What’s your name?”

The kid sprang to his feet and started running in the opposite direction.  He only made it three steps before Robin grabbed the kid’s arm and turned him around.

The kid cringed and ducked as Robin raised a fist, but it was an empty threat.  “If you don’t want to go to jail, and you don’t want me to hurt you, then stop and talk to me.”

Robin obviously sounded serious, because the teen’s shoulders sagged defeatedly.  Robin let go of the kid’s arm and said, “Sit down.”

The kid sat against a wall, staring at the dirty sidewalk.  Robin stood over the boy, “Are you going to try to run away again?”

“No,” the teen mumbled.

Robin nodded, then took a seat next to the boy, “Good.  Now we can talk.  What’s your name?”

The teen hesitated for a second before he sighed and said, “Ricky.”

Robin looked the teen up and down, taking in his straight black hair and olive skin, “Really?”

Ricky rolled his eyes, “Enrique, but I go by Ricky.”

Robin nodded, “How old are you, Ricky?”

“I’m fourteen,” the teen said.

_Hmm, he’s big for his age.  I would have thought he was older_.  “How long have you been homeless, Ricky,” Robin asked in a soft voice.

Ricky’s head shot up, “I’m not…”  Brown eyes met white eye lenses, and Ricky stopped his denial, “Six years.  How could you tell?”

“I’ve been there,” Robin said, “I lived on these streets for a while.  I stole from that same convenience store.  Got caught every time.  Boy, did my Dad ever beat me when he found out.”

Ricky looked away, and Robin nodded.  _Right, so his Dad isn’t in the picture._

“At least you _have_ a Dad,” Ricky mumbled.

“Had,” Robin said in the same tone.

“Oh,” Ricky said.

“Five years,” Robin said softly.

Ricky nodded, “The same.”

The teens were quiet for a minute, and Robin patted Ricky’s elbow in solidarity.  Ricky sniffed before saying, “You’re the first person who has heard that story and not said you’re sorry.”

Robin shrugged, “Sorry doesn’t help.  Remember, I’m here to help you, whether you believe it or not.”

“How are you going to do that,” Ricky asked.

Robin smirked, then activated his radio, “Batman, come in.”

“Don’t tell me he got away from you,” Batman growled.

“No, we’re a couple blocks away,” Robin said, “Are you still at the store?”

“I’m not buying you a soda,” Batman said.

Robin rolled his eyes, “What is the total cost of the stolen merchandise?”

Batman’s end of the conversation went quiet for a couple minutes while Batman got a tally of the charges.  “Thirty-five dollars and eighteen cents, Robin.  Why do you ask?”

Robin looked at Ricky and asked, “Would the shop keeper drop the charges if the merchandise was paid for?”

Another short silence, “Yes, he would.”

Ricky’s jaw dropped as Robin said, “Can you please pay it, Batman?  Ricky didn’t mean any harm.  He was just trying to feed his sister.”

Batman asked, “Robin?”

“He’s just a scared kid, who needs a little help,” Robin said quickly, “I think we can get him going in the right direction.”

Ricky was staring at Robin in admiration.  Batman grumbled, “This better be worth it.”

“Trust me, Batman,” Robin said, “I’ve got a good feeling about this kid.”

“Where are you,” Batman asked as he handed money to the cashier, “I’ll come pick you up.”

“I’m going to need some time, Batman,” Robin said, “I’ve got a thing or two to do here first, to make sure this won’t happen again.  I’ll call when I’m ready for pick-up.”

“Don’t keep me waiting too long,” Batman said as he cut the communication.

Robin turned to Ricky, who was staring at the older teen in shock.  “There.  Now do you believe that I’m here to help you?”

Ricky nodded, “Did you really just get my charges dropped?”

“Petty theft wasn’t exactly going to earn you jail time,” Robin said, “but, that’s no reason to not clean up your record, if we can.  This isn’t a free pass to go out stealing again, though.  You understand that, right?”

Ricky’s eyes widened, “Yes.  Yes, I understand.  No more stealing.  I only did it because I didn’t have any other way to feed my sister.”

“How old is your sister,” Robin asked.

“Maria is ten,” Ricky said.

“Where are your parents?”

“Where are yours,” Ricky replied defensively.

Robin closed his eyes.  Even if Ricky couldn’t see it past the mask, he could tell it had happened.

“They’re both dead,” Robin said quietly.

Ricky looked down, “Dad ran off with another woman just after Maria was born.  Mom said they were in Mexico the last time she heard from him.  We lost our home, and Mom was killed by a mugger four years ago.”

“Why didn’t the police pick you up?”

Ricky shook his head, “I was scared.  We ran.  No one out here cares for a couple kids on the streets.”

Robin sighed, “You don’t need to steal for food, though.  There are four shelters and three soup kitchens within ten miles of here.”

“Not anymore,” Ricky said, surprising Robin, “The shelters all closed a year ago, and the last soup kitchen closed last month.”

“What happened,” Robin asked.

Ricky shrugged, “They just said there were no supplies.  The city was sending everything to shelters and kitchens in Crime Alley.  I guess the city wants to move all the homeless into one place, away from the rich people.  I can’t take Maria there, though.  It’s not safe.”

“Where do you stay now,” Robin asked.

“There are a couple abandoned houses that have been taken over by homeless people, like us,” Ricky said, “It’s just a couple blocks from here.”

Robin took a deep breath and nodded, “If I can get you and your sister into a place, would you two go, and stop committing crimes?”

“What kind of place,” Ricky asked warily.

Robin tried to meet the younger teen’s eyes, knowing that the suggestion might not be taken well, “Sister Teresa’s.”

Ricky recoiled back, “The orphanage?”

_How do I sell an orphanage to a teenager?_   “I’ve worked with them before, I’m pretty sure they’ll take you in, no questions asked.  It’s a roof over your head, three meals a day, and a lot safer for you and your sister than the streets.  It’ll give you a chance to go to school, to make something of yourself.  It’s a chance at a life, for you and for your sister.”

Ricky looked down, knowing that Robin had put so much of an emphasis on his sister in order to get Ricky to consider it.  “Who would adopt us?”

Robin shrugged and spoke softly, “Maybe no one.  Maybe someone, but you’ll never know until you give it a chance.  Even if you don’t get adopted, you will still have more opportunities there, than out here.”

Ricky thought for a long minute before giving a small nod, and bringing a smile to Robin’s face, “You’re the first person who has really tried to help us, Robin.  We’ll go.  How can I thank you?”

Robin shook his head, “If I never have to chase you for committing a crime again, that will be thanks enough.”

Robin stood and helped Ricky up, “Let’s go get your sister.”

The two teens walked several blocks northwest, and Ricky pointed out a group of small houses, “These three are all abandoned.  Us homeless people just come and go.  No one’s bothered us about it.  We stay in this one.  The family must have left in a hurry.  It didn’t look like they took anything with them.”

On the outside, Robin was listening disinterestedly to Ricky’s story.  On the inside, Robin was ready to collapse.  _THIS IS MY HOUSE!  This is where Mom and Dad did everything they could to try to make a life for me.  No, we didn’t take anything with us.  Social Services only allowed me to take the clothes on my back and a change of clothes.  No one was left to take anything else._

Entering the familiar dwelling was not making it easy for Robin to do his job tonight.  Everything was the same from the last time he saw it, albeit a lot dirtier, and with more broken items.

Robin eyed the blue couch, still sitting in front of the TV stand.  The TV had been stolen, of course.  The couch was now sagging and the fabric torn, but he could remember laying there the last time he saw his Father alive.  He remembered all the time he spent on the couch while sick, just a couple steps from the small kitchen, where his mother would make him soup.

Turning, Robin saw the circular, gold leaf mirror, still hanging on the wall, and nearly broke down in hysterical tears.  The mirror was a classic example of 1970’s decorations at their best.  Obviously worthless to anyone else, it had been absolutely priceless to Tim’s mother.  It was the only thing she had been able to salvage from Tim’s grandparent’s mobile home after it burned down, claiming the lives of the elderly couple.

Walking further into the small, two-bedroom home, Robin stopped at the end of the hall.  On the wall, now roughly at stomach to chest level, were a series of marks denoting Tim’s youthful growth.

“Maria, where are you,” Ricky called out, bringing Robin back to the present day.

Looking past the teen, Robin saw a young head poke out of what used to be Tim’s bedroom.  The girl grew a smile and darted out at her brother before stopping short at the sight of Robin.

“Who’s he,” Maria asked warily.

Ricky looked back at Robin, “Come on, Maria.  You know who Robin is.  He’s going to help us.”

Maria hugged her brother tightly, “You were gone for a long time, Enrique.  I got scared.  I thought you might have gotten caught.”

Even from behind, Robin could make out the blush, “I did get caught.  Robin caught me, and he said he is going to take us somewhere safe.”

Robin nodded and tried to smile at the girl, who was glancing around her brother.  “We should get going, before it gets too late.  Do you have anything you need to grab before we go?”

Ricky and Maria returned to Tim’s old bedroom, and they both grabbed jackets out of the closet.  Robin recognized the larger one as one that used to belong to Tim’s Dad, and the smaller one was once his.  He had to bite his tongue and remember that it was okay for the kids to make use of them, and it was unacceptable for him to point out that the coats didn’t belong to the children.

“They were here when we first got here,” Ricky explained, “We were cold, and they were warm.”

Robin took a breath, “If the owners haven’t been back for them by now, they probably won’t be coming back.”  Robin found it very difficult to believe he had just said that sentence.  “We should go.”

Robin needed to get out of the room as quickly as possible.

Three miles directly north sat a large, brick building, next to a Catholic church.  This was Sister Teresa’s Orphanage, a Gotham City institution since 1883.  Sister Teresa has been dead for over one hundred years, but in her life, she helped hundreds of orphans.  The church retained the name, and tried to honor her legacy by keeping the doors open and the lights on.

While not Catholic, the Drake’s had always donated to the orphanage when they had a few extra dollars.  As Robin, and as Timothy Drake-Wayne, the tradition had continued, and Robin was well-known to the current Mother Superior, Sister Mary Constance.

Robin knocked on the large door, and waited nearly five minutes before the knock was answered.  A woman in a bath robe eased the door open and peeked an eye through the crack.  Seeing Robin, she closed the door, removed the security chain, and opened the door fully.

“Robin, is there anything wrong?  Do you have any idea what time it is?”

Robin gave a small smile to the elderly nun, “I’m sorry for the late hour, Sister Mary Constance.  Do you have any open beds for a couple of children in need?”

Ricky and Maria took a step forward, and Sister Mary Constance smiled, “There is always room for more in the house of the Lord.  What are your names?”

Ricky spoke up nervously, “I’m Enrique, Sister, and this is my sister, Maria.”

“Where are your parents, children?”

Ricky looked down, “Mom is dead.  No one has seen Dad in ten years.”

Sister Mary Constance nodded, feeling bad that she was so accustomed to hearing these stories.  “I see.  If you are willing to follow our rules and work, there is space for you here.  It might be a little late, but I think a hot bath and a hot dinner can be found for you two.  Robin, you’re doing the Lord’s work tonight.  Bless you.”

Robin shook his head, “No, just trying to help.  Ricky, remember your promise.”

“I will,” Ricky said, nodding.

The two kids entered the orphanage, feeling for the first time in a long time that something was going their way.

Batman had a habit of keeping the utility belts stocked with anything they might need.  That included cash.  Robin approached the nun and pulled out three hundred dollars, his entire supply on hand, and handed it to Sister Mary.

Sister Mary immediately shook her head, “Robin, no.  You don’t have to pay us to take in the needy.  It’s our calling.”

Robin nodded and pushed the money back at the nun, “Consider it an offering, to continue your work.  You need it more than I do.”

“Bless you, Robin.”

Robin turned to leave, but stopped when he felt a small tug on his cape.  Robin stopped and turned to find Maria standing behind him.  “What is it, Maria,” Robin asked softly.

The girl reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a small teddy bear.  Robin gasped at the item as the girl held it out to him and said softly, “Thank you.”

Robin knelt down, so he was looking up at the girl, “I can’t take your teddy bear, Maria.”

“It’s not mine,” Maria said, “I took it from that house we were staying in.”

_I know you did,_ Robin thought.

Sister Mary Constance spoke up, “Rule number one around here is no stealing.  If that bear is stolen, I’ll have to insist you take it back where it came from, Robin.  Maria, we have other stuffed animals here.  After your bath, you may choose one.”

Robin gently received the small token and stood up again, “I’ll make sure this gets back where it belongs.”

Robin turned and quickly fled from the orphanage.  He had to move quickly, so no one would see the tear leaking from under his mask.  Not only was the bear once his, it was also the one possession he regretted leaving behind.

Robin’s radio crackled, and Batman’s voice sounded in his ear, “Robin, where are you?  It’s getting late.”

Robin sighed, “18816 McHenry Drive.  I’m ready for pick-up.”

Batman immediately noticed that Robin sounded off.  _Robin has always had a soft heart.  Something must have happened tonight._   “Four minutes, Robin.”

“Right,” Robin said before turning his radio off.

Robin hastened his pace and returned to his old home in half the time.  Robin made a quick sweep of the house, and was disappointed in what he found.  His father’s old nightstand was full of drugs and paraphernalia.  The bathroom had been vandalized.  Half of the windows were broken.

_This is technically still my house.  I hate seeing it look like this.  Mom and Dad worked so hard to make this a nice place.  Like them, those times are gone._

Robin sat down on his old bed and stared blankly at his old room.  So much was the same, yet everything was different.  He supposed that the only thing that had really changed was him.  Robin was so distracted that he didn’t notice Batman standing in front of him, until a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Robin, are you okay?”

Robin took a shuddering breath, “Yeah.”

“Where’s the kid,” Batman asked.

Robin still didn’t look up, “I took him and his sister to Sister Teresa’s.  They were squatting here.”

Batman nodded, “Anything else?”

“There are a bunch of drugs in my…in the master bedroom.”

“I’ll call it in,” Batman said.  “Robin, what’s bothering you?”

Robin pointed past Batman to a carved, wooden plaque hung above the door, reading Timothy.  Batman’s eyes widened under his cowl.  “Robin, is this…”

“This was my home,” Robin said in a teary voice.

_Great.  That’s just great.  Seeing his home like this must be torture for him.  It’s like if Dick saw his parent’s trailer in an accident on the motorway.  I don’t know how to deal with this, but I know we can’t even try to deal with it here and now.  I can’t even have him here when the police show up.  His old life is all over this place._

“Robin,” Batman said gently.

“I know,” Robin said, rising from the bed.

Robin walked over and kneeled down in the closet.  A minute later, he emerged, holding a very familiar notebook.

Batman gasped, “Has that just been sitting in your closet for the last three years?”

Robin shook his head as he held up the frayed notebook with the Batman symbol on the front, “Secret hiding place under the floorboard.  It doesn’t look like anyone found it.”

“Is there anything else you need to take,” Batman asked.

Robin shook his head, “All my research was in here.”  Robin flipped through the notebook, “Still is, along with your business card.”

Batman nodded, “Are you ready to go?”

Robin was unable to look at Batman when he nodded.  “Let’s go,” he said heavily.

The ride was tensely quiet as the Batmobile streaked through the night.  Halfway back to the cave, Batman glanced over to find Robin staring at a small bear, which he was cradling gently in his hands.

_I didn’t see that at the house.  He must have already had that somewhere when we left_.

Batman spoke gently, “What happened out there?”

Robin didn’t look up when he spoke, “I caught up to the kid, saw that he looked pretty young.  I could have just let him go, but I didn’t want to see him continue down that road.  He told me part of his story, and I thought I could help him.  He was stealing to feed his younger sister.  I talked him into staying at Sister Teresa’s.  Ricky told me something disturbing, though.”

“Who is…oh, the kid.  Sorry.  Continue.”

Robin nodded, “Ricky said that all of the homeless shelters and soup kitchens in the area closed in the last year.  The word on the street is that all of their supplies are being sent to facilities in Crime Alley.  That’s why petty crime has risen in West Gotham.”

“Hmm,” Batman said, “We’ll have to look into that.  Tell me about the bear.”

“No,” Robin said shortly.

Batman glanced over, “It’s obviously important, Robin.  You haven’t taken your eyes off of it since you got in the car.”

“I said, NO.”

“Robin…”

“I don’t want to talk about it with Batman,” Robin shouted, cutting off Batman.

“Fine,” Batman said coldly, “How did we end up at your old home?”

_I shouldn’t have shouted at him_ , Robin thought.  “That’s where the kids were staying.  They said my house, and a couple others around it, are abandoned, and homeless people come and go for shelter.  The kids agreed to go to Sister Teresa’s Orphanage for a new start.  Sister Mary Constance took them in.  Oh, I gave the money from my utility belt to Sister Mary.”

The Batmobile stopped in the cave.  “Okay.  Get cleaned up and go to bed.”

Batman jumped out of the car and stalked off towards the showers.  _Yep, definitely shouldn’t have yelled at him._

Tim peeled his mask off and followed Bruce to the showers.  Bruce didn’t even look at the teen as they removed their uniforms and showered.  Tim hurried up as he heard Bruce take the shortest shower of his life.

“Bruce, wait.”

The man stopped and turned an annoyed glare on his adoptive son.

Tim was still drying himself off as he stepped out of the shower and said, “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Bruce.”

“If you don’t want to share your past, I understand,” Bruce said gruffly.

Tim sighed, “That’s just it.  I do want to share, just not with Batman.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and turned to leave the showers.  Tim took a step forward and said, “I want to share with _you_ , Bruce.  You do things differently than Batman, and I need _you_ for this, not Batman.”

Bruce considered that for a second, then asked, “Why didn’t you say that before?”

Tim looked down, “I couldn’t.  This hit me a lot harder than I thought it would.  I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you, I just couldn’t bring myself to tell someone who wouldn’t give me the reaction I need.”

Bruce walked back to the bench and brushed their uniforms onto the floor.  He caught the bear, sat down, and patted the bench next to him.  After pulling his pajamas on, Tim sat down and took the bear when Bruce handed it to him.

Tim’s eyes fell to the small toy again, and he started softly, “This is Bingo Bear.  Mom got him for me.  I don’t think I ever told you about this before, but I was in the same position as those kids once.  Mom and Dad couldn’t find steady work, and we were evicted from our apartment.  This was just after my third birthday.  We stayed in motels until the money ran out, then shelters, then the streets.  Mom and Dad did odd jobs where they could, but it was never enough to get us off the streets for long.  My fourth birthday came around, and Mom wanted to do something special for me.”

“How do you remember all of this,” Bruce asked, “You were so young at the time.”

Tim took a breath, “Mom told me, after Dad died.  I remember being homeless.  Mom filled in the rest.  Where was I?  Oh, right, my fourth birthday.  Mom took two dollars out of our food money, to get me something for my birthday.  My parents were going to go hungry so that they could give their son something to make me smile.  Mom went to the Goodwill and looked around, but everything was too expensive.  She was getting ready to leave when an employee brought out another box of stuff.  Mom looked in the box and found this bear, sitting on top of a boxed bingo game.  Mom said he would be our good luck.  She got him for a quarter, and I had a birthday present.”

Tim stopped to collect himself, then continued, “Whether the bear is good luck or not, things started turning around for us.  Dad got a steady job, we were able to eat regularly, and we got lucky.  We had nowhere else to stay at the time, so Dad would sneak us into his work at night.  We were trying to save up for a place to live.  His boss caught us one night, but instead of disciplining Dad, his boss understood.  He liked Dad, and didn’t want to lose him as an employee.  Mom and Dad told him our story, and he paid for the down payment on our house.  We moved in just before my fifth birthday.  Mom and Dad joked that it all started with Bingo Bear.”

Tim leaned into Bruce’s side as the man wrapped an arm around Tim’s shoulders.  Tim took a second before he could continue, “After Mom died, I got picked up by Social Services.  The lady didn’t care about me.  I was just one more thing she had to put up with in her day.  I was only allowed to bring the clothes on my back, a change of clothes, and a pair of pajamas when I was taken into their custody.  I didn’t even realize that I didn’t have Bingo Bear until your name came into the picture and it looked like I wouldn’t be going to the orphanage after all.

“Then, tonight, when I left Ricky and Maria at the orphanage, Maria handed me Bingo Bear as a way to say thank you.  I wasn’t going to take him, but Sister Mary said Maria couldn’t keep him if he was stolen, which Maria admitted to taking him from my room.  I…It’s just a little bear.”

Bruce pulled Tim into a hug, “It’s not a little bear.  It’s your Bingo Bear.  That’s your good memory from your parents.  You should keep him.  You already lost him once, there’s no reason to lose him a second time.”

Tim broke down, sobbing into Bruce’s chest, “I thought I’d never seen him again.”

Alfred walked into the locker room and was surprised by the tableau in front of him.  Tim was clinging to Bruce, with an unfamiliar toy in his lap.  “What has happened, gentlemen?”

“An unexpected blast from the past, Alfred,” Bruce said, “We ended up at Tim’s parent’s house tonight.”

Alfred gasped, “Dear me.  What happened?”

“It’s been taken over by squatters,” Tim said weakly, “I caught a petty thief who was staying there.  I was able to get him and his sister into Sister Teresa’s Orphanage.  She gave me this as a thank you.”

Alfred picked the bear up from Tim’s lap, “She gave you her teddy bear?”

Tim wiped at his eyes, “She gave me _my_ teddy bear.  She found it in my old bedroom.  I’ve missed Bingo Bear so much.”

Tim turned his face into Bruce’s chest again.  Bruce looked up and said, “I’ll tell you the rest later, Alfred.  It’s been a long night, Tim.  Why don’t we head up to bed?”

Tim looked up, “You’re not still mad at me, are you?”

Bruce shook his head, “I never should have been mad at you at all.  I’m sorry I reacted the way I did.”

Tim gave a small smile, “Good, I’m glad you’re not mad, because I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“No reason you should be alone right now,” Bruce said as they walked out of the locker room.

Alfred followed the pair into the cave, smiling gently.  Tim stopped and turned, stopping short when he saw Alfred holding Bingo Bear.

“Oh, I was just coming back for him.”

Alfred smiled, but didn’t put the bear into Tim’s outstretched hand.  “Perhaps you would consent to hold off for a night, so Mr. Bingo Bear can have a trip through the washing machine?”

Tim could understand why Alfred was making the suggestion, but it sounded like a very bad idea to Tim’s state of mind.  “He’s kind of fragile, Alfred.”

“I promise, Master Timothy, he will be as good as new.  If you don’t believe me, you may ask Master Dick how many times Miss Elinore has been through the wash over the years, and how many life-saving operations she has endured at my needle.”

Tim thought about Dick’s stuffed elephant, well-worn but in near-perfect condition.  “Okay, Alfred.  Thank you.”

“Gentle cycle, Alfred,” Bruce said.

“Of course, Master Bruce,” the butler said, leaving the cave.

Bruce and Tim left at a slower pace, and Tim said, “Hey, Bruce, I think we should look into the shelters and soup kitchens tomorrow.  There has to be a better reason for them all to be closed than just the city trying to drive the homeless population into Crime Alley.”

“I think that’s a good idea, Tim,” Bruce said.  “For now, though, you did good tonight.  What you did for those kids is something you can be proud of.  If you get tired of Tech, I think there is another role you would be well-suited for at Wayne Enterprises.”

“You think so, Bruce,” Tim asked in a yawn.

Bruce combed his fingers through Tim’s hair as they entered Bruce’s bedroom, “I do, and I’m proud of you, son.”

 

**A/N: For those of you who are going to point out that the Drake’s were rich industrialists, with a fortune that was a rival to Bruce’s, let me remind you that those are not the Drake’s I write.  The Tim in my universe follows the Tim from Batman the Animated Series, where the creators combined Jason’s and Tim’s backstories into one character.**

**The notebook Tim takes out of his closet is the same one from my story The Interview.**

**Here begins the first issue I planned to address in my first outline of this story.  To be honest, my original outline showed this being a five-chapter story.  At this point, I have no idea how long this is going to be.  That is what happens when I start thinking.**

**I’m not sure when the next chapter will be up.  I’m currently writing four different stories, and I want to finish one that is pretty close to being done.  I seem to be in a creative mood right now.  Unfortunately, it’s all on different stories.  That’s just how my mind works sometimes.**

**I’d love to know what everyone thinks so far.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	5. 5

Houses

Chapter 5

 

Bruce Wayne was stumped.

It wasn’t often that Bruce found himself in this position, but it was where he found himself now.  A request, posed on a whim, had stuck in Bruce’s mind.  He thought about it for the last day, and now he was ready to give his answer.

If only he could find his son.

Following Thursday’s patrol, as Bruce was putting Tim to bed, the teen had said there had to be something they could do for the homeless of Gotham.  Bruce had originally written off the request as a product of the evening’s patrol.  When Tim asked about it again over breakfast, Bruce realized Tim was serious about his request.  Bruce had gone to work and made a couple inquiries with the Wayne Foundation.  It wasn’t until the end of the day when he heard an answer.

Unfortunately, Bruce didn’t have time to talk to Tim about what he found out.  Bruce and Tim passed each other on the driveway as Bruce was getting home from work.  Tim called from his car to Bruce’s that he had a date, and would try to be home before curfew.  It wasn’t until Bruce was parking his car that he realized Tim wasn’t planning on being home at his required time.  Bruce sent Tim a text as soon as he got out of his car, reading _you are sixteen years old, young man.  You won’t TRY to be home by curfew, you WILL be home by curfew._

The smiley face emoji Tim sent back did not put Bruce’s mind at ease.

Bruce only had a couple minutes to ponder Tim’s response.  He had his own evening to prepare for.  Bruce was meeting Selina for dinner, and only had an hour to change and get across the city to the restaurant.  It was really Bruce’s fault for picking a harbor front eatery, but he hated being rushed.

Early Saturday morning, Bruce was mysteriously wide awake.  He was rarely out of bed before ten on Saturdays, but today, it wasn’t even eight, and Bruce couldn’t get back to sleep.

Unable to get back to sleep, and unwilling to wake Selina, Bruce walked down the hall to check on Tim.  That was where he was stumped.  Tim’s room was empty, and his bed hadn’t been slept in last night.  His bathroom door was open and the room was empty.

_Forget missing curfew,_ Bruce thought, _did Tim not come home last night?_

Bruce walked downstairs, looking for Alfred.  Alfred would be awake, but he wouldn’t be expecting any of his charges for a while, so he most likely wouldn’t be in the kitchen.

Instead of bugging Alfred in his rooms, Bruce began to just wander.  He didn’t have to wander far before Bruce heard a light snoring.  Bruce followed his ears to the den, where he found Tim asleep on the couch under a light blanket.

Bruce smiled as he sat on the coffee table and watched his youngest sleep.  _He only sleeps here when he’s really late breaking curfew.  I should probably enforce that rule better._

“Hi, Bruce,” Tim mumbled, with his eyes still closed.

Bruce reached out and brushed a lock of Tim’s hair out of his face, “Hey, kid.  How late were you?  You only sleep down here when you’re really late and don’t want to risk walking past my room.”

Tim took a breath, snuggling under the blanket a bit more, “I wasn’t late.  I got in twenty minutes early.”

“Then, why are you down here, Tim,” Bruce asked.

Tim yawned, “I got halfway up the stairs and decided to come back down here.  I wasn’t going to walk in on anything this time.”

Bruce blushed a bit, and was glad that Tim’s eyes were still closed, “I’m sorry, Tim.  Were Selina and I that loud?”

Tim finally opened his eyes and stretched his arms over his head, “You were loud, but not that loud.  I had a headache when I got home, though.  I just didn’t want to worry about ignoring noises.”

“You could have closed your door, son.”

Tim shook his head as he sat up, “You know I have a hard time sleeping with the door closed.  I really needed to sleep, so I came down here.”

Bruce moved to sit next to Tim on the couch and threw an arm around the teen’s shoulders.  “What’s on your agenda for today, son?”

Tim yawned again, “I’ve got a couple naps coming up.”

Bruce smiled, “A couple naps?  You’ve been awake for six minutes and you’re already planning on sleeping the day away?”

“It’s going to be a late night tonight,” Tim said, leaning over to rest his head on Bruce’s shoulder, “I’ve got a Watchtower shift tonight.  Midnight to seven tomorrow morning.  I figure if I sleep most of the day, I can patrol with you for a bit before hitting my shift.”

Bruce shrugged, “I guess that will work.  I’ll miss you today, though.  I wanted to talk to you about that thing you asked me about.”

Tim looked up, “The homeless resources?”

Bruce nodded, “That’s the one.  I talked to the Foundation staff yesterday.  They’re going to look into what’s going on around town and come up with a plan for consideration.”

“That’s good to hear,” Tim said.  “I had an idea, though.  If I remember right, that house we found the kids in is still my house.  Mom’s will should have passed it on to me after she died.”

“Did you want it back,” Bruce asked.

Tim shrugged, “Kinda.  I was thinking we could get it cleaned up, find a staff, and open it for homeless services.  We can use it like a shelter.  I know it’s small, but it’s got to be better than the streets.”

Bruce smiled, “Are you sure you want to intern with Tech?  I know you love computers, but you’ve got a real knack for charity work.”

Tim smiled at the compliment, “Thanks, Bruce.  We’ll have to see what happens.”

Tim stood and stretched, and turned to look at the light giggle from the door.

“Is this normal around here now?  I never pegged you for a ‘sit around in your underwear’ kind of guy, Tim.”

Tim blushed as Selina walked into the den.  Since he hadn’t gone to his bedroom last night, Tim hadn’t changed into pajamas before settling down on the couch.  Tim was only wearing a white tank top, black boxer briefs, and socks.

“I didn’t make it to my room last night.”

“Too hung over,” Selina asked with a smile.

“No,” Bruce said, “You and I were too noisy.”

Tim picked up his clothes and headed for the door, “I could use a shower.  See you two at breakfast.”

Tim left, and Selina sat next to Bruce on the couch, “I figured you’d want to cuddle this morning.  I was hoping it would be with me.”

Bruce kissed Selina’s cheek as she snuggled into his side, “I saw my son for exactly one minute yesterday.  He’s prone to depression.  I made him feel bad for too long.  I’m not going to do it anymore.  I love you, Sel, and I can’t let the family business fail, but Tim comes first over everything now.  It should have been that way from the beginning.”

“Are you ever going to tell me what you did,” Selina asked.

“It’s what I didn’t do,” Bruce said, “I’m going to wait on that, though.  Just get to know him, Selina.  I can already tell that he likes you.”

“He seems like a good kid, Bruce,” Selina said, “It sounds like you want to spend the day with him today.”

Bruce kissed Selina’s cheek again, “I’d like to spend the day with both of you.”

Selina sighed, “He really is special to you, Bruce.”

“I’m not letting him go the way I let Jason go.”

Selina shook her head, “Don’t bring that up.  The situations are completely different.  You couldn’t save Jason.  If you’d stopped him, he would have resented you.”

“And he would have been alive to resent me,” Bruce said sadly.

“You don’t know that,” Selina said.

“No, I don’t,” Bruce said softly.

Selina snuggled close to Bruce and said with a smile, “Meatloaf said it best, Bruce.  Two out of three ain’t bad.”

“Not when it comes to living sons,” Bruce snarled.

Selina leaned back, “Hey, easy.  Relax, B.  It’s just an expression.  Make due with what you have, because right now, it’s a lot.  You told me yourself, you could have nothing and be alone right now.”

Bruce took a breath to calm himself, “You’re right.  I’m sorry, Sel.  It’ll get better.  I just need to let it.”

“That’s right,” Selina said.

Alfred walked into the room, and was surprised to find these two on the couch.  “Did you two drive Master Timothy out of this room, as well?”

Selina smiled as Bruce asked, “You knew he was in here last night?”

Alfred nodded, “I saw him on my way to bed last night, when he got home.  Before curfew, if you’re wondering.”

Bruce smiled, “He told me.  He’s taking a shower before coming down for breakfast.”

Alfred nodded, “Your breakfast is on the table.  I believe I shall take this time to change the sheets.  I will also be tightening your headboard, Master Bruce.”

Bruce gave a sheepish smile, with a hint of a blush, “Right.  Sorry.  I think Dick is still asleep, though.”

“Master Dick did not come home last night.”

Bruce’s jaw dropped with a gasp, “What do you mean he didn’t come home last night?”

“He called to say he was spending the night at Miss Barbara’s apartment,” Alfred said.

“What is he thinking,” Bruce asked incredulously, “going there from a patrol?  What if he was seen?”

“He made it sound like he would not be home until after patrol tonight,” Alfred said, “I assume the plan is to stay…undercover.”

Bruce shook his head, “That’s still a hell of a risk.  He doesn’t even have his phone with him.”

“That’s probably the point,” Selina said as they got up to head to the dining room.

Tim was only a minute behind Bruce and Selina in showing up for breakfast.  He sat and happily dove into his omelet.

Selina smiled at the teen, “What’s on your schedule for today, Tim?”

Tim wiped his mouth on a napkin before saying, “I have some homework to finish.  I haven’t quite finished my paper yet.”

“Which paper,” Bruce asked.

“Lucius’ interview,” Tim said with a smile.

“I figured you’d be done with that one already,” Bruce said.

“Almost.  I did the other paper first.  It’s due first.”

“With the way you’re dressed, I would think you’re looking more at a day at the beach, instead of doing homework,” Selina said.

Tim looked down at his tank top and shorts and said, “Well, maybe I’m not doing my homework right away.  It’s going to be hot today.  Once breakfast has a chance to digest, and I’m off Alfred’s food clock, I thought a swim sounded good.”

“Not a bad plan, kiddo,” Bruce said.

“Did you want to join us, Selina,” Tim asked.

Selina smiled, but shook her head, “Thank you for the offer, Tim, but I have an appointment I have to get to at noon.”

Tim’s smile dimmed a bit, “Oh.  Okay.  What kind of appointment?”

“A job offer, actually,” Selina said, finishing her breakfast.

That seemed to surprise Bruce, “Really?  On a Saturday?”

“It’s just temp work,” Selina said, “but it could lead to something more.”

“Well, good luck,” Tim said, “You’ll have to tell us how everything goes.”

“I’ll let you know,” Selina said, draining her cup of coffee.

Bruce looked at his watch, “If your appointment is at noon, you’ll have to leave soon, right?”

Selina checked Bruce’s watch and said, “I should go.  I need to get back to my apartment for a change of clothes.  Something more appropriate for the job.  Need to feed the cat, too.”

Tim and Bruce got up as Selina stood.  “Are you coming back tonight,” Bruce asked.

“I don’t know yet,” Selina said, “I’ve been told that, if I get the job, it starts immediately, and there is some travel involved.  I might be gone for a few days.”

“Well, good luck,” Tim said, “I hope you get it, and I hope you come back soon.  You’re more fun than the other women Bruce has brought home in the past.”

“Thank you, Tim,” Selina said, blushing as she put her shoes on.  “I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”

Selina left, and Bruce and Tim walked back into the house.

“It’s nice to have new people around the house, every so often,” Tim said to Bruce as they walked through the entryway.

Bruce shook Tim’s shoulder, “Yes, it is.  So, what are your real plans for today?  What happened to a nap?”

“I’m wide awake, Bruce,” Tim said, “I’ll need to tire myself out before I can take a nap.  Did you want to join me in the pool?  Maybe Dick will, too, after he finally wakes up.”

“Dick isn’t here,” Bruce grumbled, “He went to Barbara’s instead of coming home from patrol last night.”

Tim’s eyes widened, “Wow.  I take it he didn’t come home to change first, for you to sound like that.”

“No, he didn’t,” Bruce said darkly.

The pair made their way through the house, towards the back door.  Alfred mysteriously appeared in front of Tim, with his hands on his hips, just before Tim reached the door.

“Going somewhere, Master Timothy?”

Tim turned his head and looked at Bruce, “Told you.”  He turned back to Alfred and smiled, “I’m just going out back, Alfred.”

“You weren’t planning on _using_ that swimsuit you are wearing, are you, young man?”

Tim’s smile grew, “Not until you stop glaring at me.  Once you stop glaring, I’ll know it’s been long enough since breakfast.  Then, I’ll go swimming.”

“And in the meantime,” the butler asked.

Tim gestured at the window in the door, “It’s a nice day outside, Alfred.  I’m going to lay on a deck chair and get some sun.”

“In that case,” Alfred pulled a bottle of sunscreen out of nowhere, then turned to look back in the kitchen as a buzzer sounded.  He handed the bottle to Bruce and said, “I shall leave this to you, Master Bruce.  I’m sure you don’t want burnt cookies.”

Alfred walked back into the kitchen as Tim and Bruce walked out of the house.

“Should we get this over with, while Alfred’s still watching,” Bruce asked, shaking the bottle of sunscreen.

Tim pulled off his tank top with a smile as he turned his back to Bruce, “Go for it.”

Bruce rubbed sunscreen on Tim’s back and shoulders, but his eyes were drawn to three horizontal scar lines across Tim’s lower back.  “Tim, what’s this?”

“What’s what,” Tim asked.

Bruce ran his fingers lightly along the lines, and Tim sighed, “Yeah, that.”

“What happened,” Bruce asked, “and how did I not know about those before?”

Tim sighed, “They’re not easy to see, unless you look at them in direct light.  I, um…I wasn’t the best kid when I was younger.  Between the ages of six and seven, I decided I didn’t have to pay for things when we would go to stores.  Thing is, I wasn’t good at stealing.  I got caught every time.  Dad looked for anything to get me to stop.  Talking to me didn’t work.  Yelling at me didn’t work.  Grounding me didn’t work.  Well…I got the belt.”

“That obviously worked,” Bruce said as he rubbed lotion onto Tim’s arms.

“You know, it didn’t,” Tim said sadly, “That’s not what made me stop.  Dad didn’t mean to leave those marks on my back.  When he saw what he did, he cried.  That was the first time I’d seen my Dad cry.  I believed him when he said hitting me hurt him more than it hurt me.  From that day on, I swore to never do anything that would make my Dad cry again.  I kept that promise, too.”

Bruce turned his son, to look into his eyes, “That’s quite a lesson to learn, Tim.”

“It was one I needed to learn badly,” Tim said quietly, “and one I still hold to my heart.  I never want to make my parents cry through my actions.”

Bruce hugged Tim gently, “Do happy tears count?”

“I guess those are okay,” Tim said.  Tim took a step back, then took the sunscreen and lathered up his chest and legs, “I guess I’m covered, now.  Are you going to join me?”

Bruce took the sunscreen back and spread some on Tim’s nose and ears, then said, “Let me get changed, then I’ll be back.”

Tim walked over to a small storage shed and pulled out a multi-colored folding lounge chair.  Bruce rolled his eyes hard, “Come on, Tim.  Not that one.”

Tim smiled down at the chair, “Why not?”

“Look at it.  It’s garish.”

Tim smiled up at Bruce, “It’s comfortable.”

“It’s hideous,” Bruce said, “What’s wrong with the chairs around the pool?”

Tim pointed at the matched set of redwood loungers, “Those are hard as hell, and they need to be replaced.  They’re wearing out.”

“They’re fine, Tim,” Bruce said, “And they don’t look like something you would find at a trailer park.”

Tim shook his head, “The last time I used one, Alfred spent ten minutes picking splinters out of my back and legs.  It’s a good thing I’m not a skinny dipper.  I get one splinter in my butt, and those chairs get introduced to the firepit.”

Bruce rolled his eyes as he headed for the house, “I don’t approve of arson, Timothy.”

_An Hour Later…_

Tim was splashing in the pool after getting the okay from Alfred when Bruce returned and took a seat on one of the redwood chairs, to show Tim that there was nothing wrong with it.  Tim watched with a smile as Bruce laid back with a smirk, only to lean forward quickly with a cringe.

Tim pulled himself out of the pool, then pulled the inch-long splinter from Bruce’s back and showed it to the man.

Bruce sighed, “Okay, we’ll get new chairs.  Tasteful ones, not that rainbow monstrosity you seem to like.  Remember, we still have society events out here.”

_Afternoon…_

Bruce and Tim enjoyed the pool, then enjoyed an early lunch.  With tired muscles and a full belly, Tim took the nap he had discussed with Bruce that morning.  Again, finding himself on the couch in the den, Tim couldn’t think of anything that could make him happier in the moment.

Tim awoke four hours later.  Needing something to do, he wandered down to the cave and typed an inquiry into the computer.  He sat transfixed for the next two hours, clicking through results and compiling notes.

Bruce stood behind Tim for nearly ten minutes before he realized the teen wasn’t going to notice him standing there.  He sighed lightly, then said, “There you are, kiddo.  What has you so intrigued?”

Tim took a breath before saying, “Ricky was right.  I wanted to confirm what he told me about the shelters, and it’s true.”

“All the shelters in West Gotham closed,” Bruce asked.

“And the soup kitchens,” Tim said, “And the charity shop on fifteenth.”

Bruce nodded, “Okay.  What’s your next step?  You confirmed an issue; what are you going to do about it?  Is this something we need to look into?”

Tim shook his head and waved a hand dismissively, “You know me better than that, Bruce.  I knew that almost two hours ago.  I’m, like, four steps past that at this point.  Look at this.”

Tim brought up a note file on the main screen and highlighted the first section.  “The shelters and resources closed in almost a straight line, from north to south.  As the northern resources closed, those in need moved south.  Now, here’s the big problem.  The homeless had nowhere to go once the last resource closed.  The south end of West Gotham butts up to the Financial District and the Warehouse District.  There are no homeless resources until you get into Crime Alley in the south, or Merchant Row to the east.”

Bruce nodded as he rubbed his chin, “With nowhere to go, crime started to rise in West Gotham.”

Tim nodded, not looking up at Bruce, “Which caused anti-homeless sentiment in the residents of West Gotham.  They are calling for increased police patrols and more arrests, when they used to care for those on the streets, when the shelters were open.”

“Do we know why this happened,” Bruce asked, “Why did this all start?”

Tim took a breath, “I’ve got a few theories about that.  I don’t know which one is true yet, if they all are true, or if none of them are true.”

Bruce smiled and pulled up a chair, “Let’s tackle them one at a time, and see where we end up.”

Tim highlighted another section in his notes, “Okay, let’s start here.  Ricky told me that he was told the shelters and soup kitchens closed due to a lack of supplies, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.”

“Do you think the kid lied to you,” Bruce asked.

Tim shook his head, “No, I think he told me exactly what he was told.  It’s impossible to track down who told him that, so we can’t check that out at this point.  What I meant was, donations and supplies earmarked for the homeless are at an all-time high.  The only thing I can see that changed was the allocation process.”

Bruce read over Tim’s notes on the screen, nodding slightly, “Okay, keep going.”

Tim took a breath, “A little over a year ago, the allocation process changed.  It’s in the city records.  However, this new process was in use for over a year before it became official policy.”

Bruce cocked his head, “That’s strange.”

“Not really,” Tim said, “They had to change.  Or, rather, they were forced to change.”

“Which one is it,” Bruce asked.

“Sorry, I misspoke,” Tim said, “Almost three years ago now, there was a fire at one of the city’s supply depots.  It was a complete loss.  At the time, the city kept supplies earmarked for the homeless in regional supply warehouses.  It made it easier and faster to get needed supplies out.  The West Gotham depot was destroyed in the fire.  Supplies had to be shipped in from other depots.”

Bruce looked thoughtful, “Did anyone ever investigate the fire?”

Tim nodded, “No foul play, if that’s what you’re thinking, Bruce.  A truck lost control in a snowstorm, hit a utility pole, and knocked it onto the depot building.  Fire from the electrical lines shorting took the building down.  It was ruled an accident.”

“That must have made it harder to get supplies out.”

Tim shook his head, “Actually, no.  Distribution was moved to another warehouse.  Deliveries were only thrown off by a matter of hours, at most.  Once it was proved that services could still be rendered, all of the regional depots were shut down, and one central warehouse was utilized for the whole city.  Now, I haven’t found when or where it started yet, but, little by little, West Gotham supplies started drying up.”

“Just West Gotham,” Bruce asked.

Tim shook his head, “West Gotham, Gotham Heights, Merchant Row, and pretty much all of the northern, affluent sections of the city.  From what I can tell so far, the shelters and soup kitchens started closing down to consolidate supplies in fewer locations.  However, the city seems to have taken that as proof that services are no longer needed, and reduced shipments further.”

Bruce shook his head, “Reduced services as proof of lack of need.  That’s just disgusting.”

“I know,” Tim said.

“Were the supplies diverted somewhere,” Bruce asked.

Tim shook his head, “Not that I can see.  Shelters and kitchens in the south part of the city have not seen an increase in supplies.”

Bruce thought for a second, “Cutting off half of their distribution chain would show a surplus somewhere.  If donations are still coming in, and only a fraction of facilities are getting shipments, where are the rest of the supplies?”

Tim sighed, “That’s the question I’m stuck on at the moment.  I don’t know where the surplus is, I don’t know who ordered the shift in supplies, and I haven’t even thought about asking why yet.”

Bruce reached over and squeezed Tim’s shoulder, “That’s okay, Tim.  This is a lot of work for just a couple hours.  I don’t expect you to solve this whole thing in one night.”

“I know, Bruce,” Tim said in a yawn.

“Hey, are you sure you want to patrol tonight,” Bruce asked, “You can get a little more sleep before you head up to the Watchtower.”

Tim smiled, “How long before we leave on patrol?”

Bruce returned the smile, “Dinner is in half an hour.  We’ll probably leave two or three hours after dinner, like always.  We can find someone to cover your Watchtower shift.  You don’t get enough sleep, Tim.”

Tim shook his head, “No, we can’t.  This isn’t my shift.  I’m covering for Wally.  I guess his kids are sick, still.”

Bruce looked up, “Sick speedsters?  Must be something serious, if they’ve been sick long enough to cancel plans.”

Tim nodded, “The kids caught the chicken pox.”

Bruce matched the nod, “That’ll do it.”

“I’ll sleep after dinner,” Tim said, “and be good for an all-nighter.”

_Later…_

Robin ran towards the edge of a building, jumped out into nothing, dropped for a second, then fired his grapple line and let his grapnel gun pull him across the street.  Robin rolled on his landing on the next rooftop before popping up next to Batman.

Batman shook his head, “I guess you’re awake.”

“I feel good, Batman,” Robin said.

Batman hid his sigh, “Just don’t wear yourself out before you cover Flash’s shift.”

Batman and Robin jumped to the next rooftop, where a woman screamed at the surprise landing.  She had been hanging laundry on a clothesline when Batman and Robin appeared almost out of nowhere.  Robin held up his hands, trying to calm the woman.

The Dynamic Duo walked by, heading for the next roof.  Batman grumbled to the woman, “Don’t you think it’s a little late to be doing laundry?”

The woman shrugged nervously, “This is the only time I can get the machine.  Dryer’s broken, so I have to hang it up.”

“G’night, ma’am,” Robin said with a smile as the duo moved to the next roof.

Two rooftops away, Batman looked to the north.  “There’s the signal.  Come, Robin.”

Both crime fighters drew their grapnel guns, but Robin froze and tapped Batman on the arm.  “Wait.  Do you hear that, Batman?”

Batman listened for a second, “Burglar alarm.”

“It’s coming from the south,” Robin said.

Batman grunted noncommittally.

“How about I go check out the alarm, and you go talk to the Commissioner?”

Batman nodded, “Go.  Report in when you find out what it is.  Be careful.”

“Right,” Robin said as he and Batman parted ways.

Robin moved south, listening to the alarm grow louder.   He found himself approaching Northpointe Mall, on the northern border of Crime Alley.  The alarm was definitely coming from the building.

Northpointe Mall was not your average shopping mall.  The first level of the three-level shopping center housed your standard mall-type shopping choices and eating establishments.  The second and third levels housed Gotham City’s jewelry district.  Floor two was entirely jewelry retailers, while the third-floor housed jewelry wholesalers.  On any given day, millions of dollars of precious stones were kept on the premises.  That’s why the burglar alarms could be heard from miles away.

Robin keyed his radio, and had to shout over the blaring alarm, “Batman, the alarm is coming from the Northpointe Mall.”

“I know,” Batman replied, “That’s why Commissioner Gordon put up the signal.  I’m on my way.  Is there any activity there that you can find?”

“Not yet,” Robin said, approaching the building, “I’m moving in now.”

Robin climbed to the roof of the mall, following a rope ladder, which had been hung over the side of the building.  Robin followed several obvious clues to an oversized air conditioner.

“I’ve got an open vent grate on the roof.  Looks like their point of entry.”

“Any idea on the size of the group,” Batman asked.

Robin looked around, then said, “At least two, possibly more.”

“How can you tell?”

“Footprints on the roof,” Robin said, “Entering the vent now.”

“Be careful,” Batman said, “You have a tendency to make more noise in stealth situations, like this, than you should.”

“I’m not _that_ bad,” Robin said.

From the open vent, Robin could hear a voice, “Who is that?”

Another voice responded, “We were followed!  Let’s get out of here!”

Robin blushed and heaved a heavy sigh.  _I shouldn’t have been talking to Batman in front of the vent.  A giant metal tube snaking through the building.  I bet you could hear me all the way in the food court on the first floor._

“Would you care to explain that sigh,” Batman said over the radio.

Robin stepped away from the metal shaft and mumbled, “Not really.”

The tinkle of shattering glass sent Robin to the side of the building, where he saw two people running from the mall.  “I have two leaving on foot, heading northwest.  Pursuing on foot.”

Robin made his way to the ground and started running after the criminals.  One was a larger man in a brown jacket, flat cap, and dark pants.  Running was obviously not his specialty, because his partner, a woman dressed in all black, quickly outpaced him.

“Turning north out of the parking lot onto Van Owen,” Robin reported.

“How far behind them are you,” Batman asked.

“Not far,” Robin said, “Half a block, and closing.  They’re splitting up.  One is too fat to keep up with the other.”

The man knew he wasn’t going to catch up to his partner, but he didn’t know how close Robin was until it was too late.

The man was huffing and puffing as Robin spoke from close to his left ear, “Hi there.”

The running crook jumped and shouted in surprise at the sound.  He jerked to his right, to try to get away from the Boy Wonder, only to run full speed into a post office drop box.  The man flipped over the blue steel box and laid on the ground on the other side, dazed and gasping for breath.

Robin smiled as he handcuffed one of the man’s wrists to one of the legs of the mailbox and said, “Just stay here.  It’s less dangerous in jail than out here, trying to run from me.”

The man just gave a defeated nod as Robin got up and ran off, calling Batman, “One in custody.  I’ve got him cuffed to a mailbox at Van Owen and Third street.”

“Good job, Robin,” Batman said, “Did you lose the other guy?”

Robin smirked.  _Yeah, right._   “In pursuit.  I think it’s a woman.  She just turned down an alley, eastbound, a couple blocks ahead.”

A minute later, Robin turned down the alley, not liking the sight in front of him.  “Lost visual.”

“Where?”

Robin sighed, “Alley between Van Owen and Parkview.”

Batman grumbled, “Too many alleys and streets over there.  Don’t go running off without a good lead.  I’ll be in the area in five minutes.”

Robin stood at the end of the alley, looking all around, until he heard the sound of a boot on metal.  Robin looked up and saw a black-clothed leg disappearing onto the roof, from the fire escape the crook had just climbed.

Robin smiled evilly, “Nice try, but that was a mistake.  The roofs are my territory.”

Batman sounded from the open line, “What, Robin?”

“I’ve got her in sight again.  She’s on the roofs.  She climbed a fire escape.  Continuing pursuit.”

Robin pulled his grapnel gun and launched his line.  Setting the gun for fast retract, Robin flew to the roof level, dropped his tool, and let his momentum carry him over the edge and onto the roof.  Batman hated when he pulled that move, but it added a bit of flair to his entrance.

Robin rolled on the rooftop and came up running.  The crook leapt to the next rooftop, and Robin grew a smile.  This thief was smart, daring, and providing a good chase for Robin.  It was a worthy use of his energy.

None of that would keep her out of prison, though.

“You won’t get away from me,” Robin called out, “Might as well stop now.”

The thief called back, “If you really thought you could catch me, you wouldn’t make a lame boast like that.”  She continued on to the next roof.

Criminal and vigilante made the leap to the next roof, and Robin called out, “I don’t want to hurt you.  You can stop at any time.”

Robin could hear the smile in the woman’s voice, “That’s nice and all, but you haven’t caught me yet.”

_It worked for the last person I chased._   “Emphasis on yet,” Robin said.

Robin closed ground, but not enough to stop his quarry before needing to make the leap to the next rooftop.  The black-clad woman stumbled on her landing, allowing Robin to catch up.

“Stop,” Robin said, “You’re caught.”

The woman was surprised that the voice came from next to her ear.  The woman tried to speed up, but Robin stuck a foot out and tripped the woman.  She fell forward, rolled twice, and slid to a stop on her stomach.

Robin slid to a stop and kneeled next to the woman with a smile, “I was right.  You _are_ Catwoman!  Batman is going to love this one.”

“Yep,” Catwoman said, “He’s just going to get a kick out of this.  You can let me go now.”

Robin sat on the woman’s legs as she tried to get up and get away.  “Not a chance.  The Gotham PD seems to have a ‘catch and release’ program, but I don’t.  You’re going away for a long time.  Give me your hands.”

Catwoman could hear the jangling of Robin’s handcuffs, “You’re not handcuffing me, Robin.”

“You have your choice.  Either I handcuff you, or I sit on you until Batman gets here.”

Catwoman sighed, “I don’t think Bats will be too happy with either choice, Tim.”

_What did she just call me?  Where did she get that from?_   “Who is Tim?  My name is Robin.”

Catwoman smiled, hearing the indecision in the boy’s voice, “You might not say that, if you let me turn over.”

Robin shook his head, “I already gave you your only two choices.  Handcuffs or staying like this until Batman gets here.”

“Fine.  Cuff me.”

Robin was suspicious at the sudden change of heart, but accepted the woman’s hands when she pulled them out from under her and held them behind her back.  Robin put the cuffs lightly around Catwoman’s wrists, then pulled off her gloves, with the sharpened, built-in fingernails, and removed both sets of lock picks from the woman’s sleeves.

Catwoman gasped at the search and Robin smirked, “I’m not an idiot, Catwoman.”

Robin snugged the cuffs tighter, and Catwoman grumbled, “B won’t like this, Tim.”

“Who is this Tim you keep mentioning,” Robin asked.

Robin’s radio crackled in his ear, and Batman asked, “Robin, where are you?”

Robin shook his head, “I’m activating my tracker now.  I couldn’t see street signs while running on the roofs.”

Batman waited a second, then said, “Okay, I have your location.  I’m two blocks away.  I’ll be there in a minute.”

While Robin had been talking to Batman, he stood up, and Catwoman rolled over and sat up against a low wall.  Once she had his attention again, she said, “Tim, I’m serious.  Take my goggles off before Batman gets here.”

Robin stared curiously at the woman, “I don’t know who Tim is, but okay.”

Robin reached down carefully and pulled the goggles and the cowl with the built-in cat ears off.  His gasp could be heard the next block over as he stumbled back in shock.

“What the hell!?!  Se…Selina?”

“Hi, Tim,” Selina said bashfully.

Robin was tripping over his words, and was wondering how his eyes hadn’t fallen out of his head, with as wide as they were.  “You…you’re Catwoman?”

“’Fraid so,” Selina said.

Robin took a nervous step forward, “Have you always been Catwoman?”

“Yes, she had,” a deep voice said from behind the Boy Wonder.

Robin spun to find Batman standing a couple feet behind him.  Batman watched as Robin’s gaze switched from stunned to betrayed.  “You knew,” he asked quietly.

It wasn’t really a question, “I’ve known for a long time; probably since the beginning.”

“And you didn’t think that was something I should know,” Robin shouted.

Batman sighed, “I didn’t think you should know _yet_.  I didn’t think she was in town to pull a job.  I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Are either of you going to uncuff me,” Selina asked.

She was ignored by the men.

“What else have you _lied_ to me about, Batman,” Robin asked, “Who else knows?”

Batman didn’t answer, and Robin’s eyes widened again under his mask, “ _Everyone_ knows?”

“Robin, it’s not as bad as it seems,” Batman said.

“Not as bad as it seems,” Robin snapped, “I just apprehended a woman I had breakfast with this morning!  How am I supposed to hand her over to the police when she was making fun of my underwear this morning?”

Batman shook his head, “Robin, I’ll handle this.  Why don’t you wait in the car?”

“What are you going to do, Batman,” Robin asked.

“I’ll handle this,” Batman repeated.

“You can’t actually send her to jail, can you?  She knows too much.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you, Tim,” Selina said.

“ _Robin,_ Catwoman,” Batman snapped, “You know how I feel about names in uniform.”

Selina sighed, “Robin, the diamonds I took.  They’re in my pouch.  Take them back to the mall.”

“You really think that will make up for this,” Robin asked harshly.

“It’s a start,” Batman said, seeing the hurt look on Selina’s face at Robin’s tone, “Why don’t you wait in the car, Robin?”

Robin sighed roughly as he turned away from Batman and headed for the car, “I’m _not_ okay with this, Batman.”

The ride back to the cave, after a short detour to return the stolen merchandise, was tense and silent.  Robin was fuming at not being let in on the secret.  Batman was wondering how to talk to his son about this development.

Tim barely let the Batmobile stop moving before he jumped out of the car and headed for the Zeta Tube.

“Tim, we need to talk about this,” Bruce called out to Tim’s retreating back.

Tim spun around quickly, “No.  We needed to talk about this days ago.  How could you keep this from me?”

“I wanted you two to get to know each other first,” Bruce said, “then we could discuss it rationally.”

“So I could be betrayed by someone I know and like,” Tim asked fiercely.  “How could you possibly think this was a good idea?”

Bruce sighed, “First of all, you aren’t the only one she betrayed tonight.  She fooled all of us, Tim.  I didn’t know she was in town to pull a job.  She seemed…different, this time.”

Tim looked down, “Why didn’t you tell me the identity of Catwoman when I was researching your enemies years ago?”

Tim looked up, and Bruce was standing right in front of him, “How would that have gone?  This is Catwoman, a master thief.  She’s also a beautiful woman I’ve known since childhood, and we date on and off?”

“That could have helped,” Tim said.

“She’s been out of Gotham for years.  I didn’t know if she would be coming back.  I didn’t want to have that hanging over your head, in case she did.  How would you have acted tonight, if you’d known?”

Tim sighed, “I don’t know, and I’ll never know, because I wasn’t given that option.  Yeah, I might have treated her a little differently, but she still wouldn’t have gotten away.”

Bruce gave a small smile, “You acted exactly how you’ve been trained to act, which is exactly how I wanted you to act.  No, she shouldn’t get away with her crimes.”

Tim shook his head, “Why didn’t you just tell me all of this from the start?”

“There was no reason to think she was working an angle, when she came back this time,” Bruce said.

“Except for past experience,” Tim said.

“You’re right,” Bruce said.

The duo was quiet for a minute.  Bruce was waiting for Tim to say something.

Finally, Tim asked quietly, “So, what is it, Bruce?  Do you not trust me?  Did you think I couldn’t handle news like this?”

Bruce shook his head, “No, Tim.  I already told you, I wanted you two to get to know each other first.  I thought Selina was serious about changing this time.  I never wanted to hurt you, Son.”

Tim looked up, “Well, you did.  You all kept this from me.  You, Alfred, and Dick all had plenty of chances to talk to me about this, before this happened.  You knew I could handle something like this, and you didn’t tell me.  How many times do we have to go through these situations?  All I’ve ever wanted was for you to talk to me, and to be honest.  You talked to me, but you didn’t say enough, and you weren’t as honest as you should have been.”

Bruce sighed, “I’m sorry, Tim.  You’re right, and you have every right to be mad at me.  It was my decision not to tell you.”

“It’s a little late to start telling me the truth, Bruce,” Tim said, turning for the Zeta Tube again.

Bruce stood helplessly, staring at Tim, “Please, don’t leave like this, Tim.  We’re not done with this.”

Tim typed in the coordinates for the Watchtower into the control panel, then turned his head to look at Bruce, “No, we’re not done with this, but we _are_ done for now.  If we keep going, I’ll end up saying something we’ll both regret.  I don’t want to do that.  We _will_ talk about this later, when I’m not so pissed off at you.”

Tim stepped through the Zeta Tube and disappeared, leaving Bruce standing alone in the cave with his jaw hanging in shock.

 

**A/N: Sorry this took so long to get out.  I have three plot points going on in this story, and I didn’t know which one I wanted to address next.  This kind of combines parts of two, and, hopefully, moves the story along a bit.**

**Like always, I’d love to hear your comments about what has happened so far.  Let me know if you think I’m on the right track.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	6. 6

Houses

Chapter 6

 

A jaunty tune, echoing through the ground floor of Stately Wayne Manor, woke Bruce from his fitful slumber.  He sat up on the front sitting room couch, glanced out into the hallway, and saw Dick walking out of the front hallway with his hands in his pockets, whistling like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Dick saw Bruce out of the corner of his eye and changed direction to the sitting room.  “Morning, Bruce.  Why are you in here?”

Bruce stretched, “I need to talk to Tim.”

“Shouldn’t you be upstairs for that, this early in the morning,” Dick asked.

Bruce shook his head, “He took a Watchtower shift.  I didn’t want to miss him when he got home…if he comes home.  It wouldn’t surprise me if he went to Titan’s Tower after his shift.  Speaking of coming home, or not coming home, never do that again.  What you did was too dangerous.”

Dick smiled, “I took every precaution, Bruce.  Barbara used to sneak in and out of there all the time when she was Batgirl.  There are safeties in place.  I wasn’t seen.”

“It was still too dangerous,” Bruce said, “What was so important that you couldn’t come home first?”

Dick took a seat next to Bruce on the couch, “It was our third second anniversary.  Or, was it our fourth first anniversary?  Either way, it was our anniversary.  It was worth it, Bruce.”

Bruce shook his head, “Can you two just choose one?  Either make it permanent or break it off.  On again, off again must be hard for you two.”

Dick took a breath, “It has its ups and downs.  We’re doing good right now.  I kinda don’t want to push things too much right now.”

Bruce patted Dick’s knee, “I get it, Pal.  I really do.  I wish my relationship was going as well.”

“What happened,” Dick asked, concerned.

Bruce closed his eyes, “I hurt Tim again.”

“Oh!  That relationship,” Dick said, “What did you do this time?”

“It’s what we all did, actually.”  Bruce sighed, “We really screwed up, Pal.”

“Do I need to beat your ass, Bruce,” Dick asked with a smile.

“Only if you add your own ass in there, as well.  He’s not happy with any of us.”

“What happened,” Dick asked again.

Bruce sighed, “Tim and I split up last night.”

“What,” Dick exclaimed, interrupting Bruce.

Bruce glanced at Dick and clarified, “Patrols.  We split up on patrol.  The signal came up at the same time as we heard an alarm.  Tim went to check out the alarm, while I went to talk to the Commissioner.  Turns out Jim was calling about the alarm that Tim was responding to, a jewel heist at Northpointe Mall.”

“Jewel heist,” Dick asked warily.

Bruce sighed, “You see where this is going, and you’re right.  By the time I got there, Tim had already captured both of the robbers.  Selina gave him a run for his money, then revealed herself when Tim caught her.”

Dick shook his head, “Damn it.  I _told_ her not to make Tim find out about her criminal side the hard way.”

“We should have just told him,” Bruce said, “Now, he’s pissed off and feeling like we don’t trust him.  I really thought she’d changed, Dick.”

“So had I,” Dick said, “What are we going to do now?”

Bruce shook his head, “We’ll leave that up to him, but we’re going to be honest about everything when he asks us questions.”

Dick nodded, “The big question is, will he believe that we’re being honest.”

The front doorbell rang, surprising the men.  They jumped off of the couch to answer the door before the visitor could ring again, but didn’t make it into the entryway before they heard a voice asking, “What are you doing here?”

Dick cringed, _Oh, Timmy, please don’t sound that way so early in the morning._

Bruce released a sigh.  _I didn’t know he was home yet.  He must have just got back._

Bruce and Dick entered the entryway to find Tim holding the door open, while Selina stood on the porch, obviously flustered.  She hadn’t expected to run into Tim first thing in the morning.

“Well,” Tim asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk, Tim,” Selina said.

“Bruce is probably still asleep,” Tim said, implying that he didn’t want to talk.

“I’m not, actually,” Bruce said as he approached behind Tim, “I was waiting for you.”

“Well, she’s here,” Tim said dismissively, as he turned to head for the stairs.

Bruce reached out to his adoptive son, “No, I meant, I was waiting for you, Tim.”

“You can wait some more,” Tim said, moving his shoulder so Bruce didn’t touch him, “I’m tired, and I’m going to bed.”

Selina took a step into the Manor, “Tim, please, can we talk?  Just for a few minutes?”

Tim glanced at the hopeful looks on all three faces, then said, “Fine.  Make it quick, I’ve been up all night.”

The foursome walked into the sitting room and sat down.  Tim specifically took the armchair, so no one would sit next to him.  “Go ahead,” the teen said.

“Tim, this is all my fault,” Bruce said.

“Yeah, it’s all his fault,” Dick agreed, trying to get Tim to smile.

Bruce glared at Dick for a second, then continued, “I wanted you two to get to know each other before masked identities were brought up.”

“So I could be hurt by someone I know and like?”

“You like me, Tim,” Selina asked hopefully.

“Yes, I do,” Tim answered quickly, “You’re a nice person, Selina.  We all have pasts.  You should have told me about this.”

“Would you have taken it any better if we did,” Bruce asked.

Tim turned to glare at Bruce, “I would have understood a hell of a lot better here than on the rooftop.  Do you know how much danger you put her in by not telling me she’s Catwoman?”

Bruce turned his head to stare at Selina, “I didn’t think we had to worry about Catwoman showing up when Selina dropped into our lives again.”

Tim turned to Selina and asked, “Is this some sort of game for you, Selina?  There has to be something better you can do with your time and talents.”

“I’m looking, Tim,” Selina said, “Really, I am.  This score was too tempting, though.”

“Obviously,” Bruce said.

“Did you really think you could get away from me,” Tim asked Selina.

“I did get away from you,” Selina said with a smile.

Tim returned the smile, “Is that what you call sitting on a rooftop in handcuffs?”

“He did catch you, Selina,” Bruce said.

Dick smiled brightly, “Wait, he ran you down?  Good job, Little Brother.”

“I ran them both down,” Tim said.

“After you gave away your presence on the roof of the mall,” Selina said.

Tim cocked his head, “Did you know it was me chasing you the whole time?”

Selina smiled, “There’s only one Robin, and I knew about you before you knew about me.  I was hoping I could get away before you found out I was involved.”

“Where would you have gone,” Bruce asked, “Once the Police interrogated your accomplice, we would have been informed of your involvement.  Did you think I would just let you get away with it?”

“I would have returned most of the diamonds.”

“Selina,” Bruce growled.

Selina rolled her eyes, “Okay, okay.  I would have returned them.”  She smiled at Tim, “You know, for our first chase, you put up a bigger fight than Dick did on his first chase.”

Dick rolled his eyes, “I was nine the first time I chased you.  That’s hardly a fair comparison.”

Tim stared seriously at Selina, “Not our first chase, Selina.  This is our last.  If I have to chase you down again, Batman won’t be able to keep you out of jail.”

Selina looked down, “I know.  That’s actually why I’m here.  Bruce, you told me once that I never see the people I hurt, and you were right.  Well, I hurt you, Tim, and I don’t like what I see.”

“A thief with a conscience,” Tim asked.

“Tim,” Bruce said warningly.

Selina shook her head, “No, it’s okay, Bruce.  He’s right.  He’s right to be skeptical.  It comes from being hurt.  I’m sorry to say that I added to whatever hurt you already had.  I want to make things right.  I’ve hated living on the run for a long time now.  I’m going to do something about it.”

“What?  Are you just going to turn yourself in,” Tim asked.

Selina took a breath, “In a manner of speaking, yes.  I’ve racked up charges across the country.  Before I came to Gotham, I spoke with a Federal Prosecutor.  I turn myself in, and I can take care of all my charges at once.”

Bruce turned to look at Selina with a sagging jaw, “Wait, what do you mean?”

Selina sighed, “Bruce, I didn’t come back to Gotham for one last score, or to pick up where we left off.  I came to say goodbye.”

Dick leaned forward, “Wait, you’re really turning yourself in?”

“I am,” Selina said, “Monday at noon.  I’m going to show up early, just so they’re sure I’m serious.”

“Will we ever see you again,” Bruce asked.

“I…I don’t know,” Selina said, “I’m pleading guilty to my crimes, but I should probably be gone for a while.”

The room was silent for a while, until Tim asked, “You’re not doing this because of me, are you?”

Selina gave a soft smile, “No, Tim.  I decided on this course before I knew you existed.  I really came into town just to say goodbye to Bruce.  I’m glad I got to meet you, though, Tim.”

“When do you have to go,” Bruce asked.

Selina sighed and stood, “The sooner, the better.  There’s a lot I need to take care of before noon tomorrow.”

“You’ll at least stay for breakfast,” Bruce said, rising and holding Selina’s hand.

Selina shook her head, “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.  I’ll write, once I get outside communication privileges.”

Dick walked over and hugged Selina tightly.  He spoke in her ear softly, with strain in his voice, “Goodbye, Mom.  Be good.  We’re going to miss you.”

Selina sniffled, “Goodbye, Dick.  I’m sure we’ll see each other again.  Stop calling me Mom, though.  It’s creepy.”

Dick gave a small snort of a laugh as he kissed her cheek.

Selina turned to Tim and said, “I wish things could have been different, Tim.  I would have liked to get to know you better.”

Selina held out her hand to Tim.  The teen slapped it away, and hugged the woman instead.  “I was wrong about you, Selina.  I don’t want to see you go, but I understand why you’re doing it.  I think I’m going to miss you.”

“I won’t be gone forever,” Selina said.

Dick wrapped an arm around Tim’s shoulders and led the teen out of the sitting room, leaving Bruce and Selina alone to say their goodbyes.

Dick stopped outside of the kitchen and turned to look at Tim, “You okay, Little Brother?”

Tim sighed and looked down, “No.  I was so mad at all three of you.  Now, I don’t know how to feel.  I don’t like being lied to.”

“We didn’t lie to you, Timmy.”

“I don’t like important things being kept from me,” Tim said.

A small smile grew on Dick’s face, “It’s fun chasing her, though, right?”

Tim thought for a second, “She didn’t make it easy on me, that’s for sure.  I don’t like this, Dick.”

Dick pulled Tim into a hug, “Neither do I.  Neither does Bruce.  Alfred won’t like it, either.”

“I’ve only known her for a week,” Tim said, “why does it feel like I’m losing a long-time friend?”

“Selina is just that kind of person,” Dick said, “And, you’re not losing her.  None of us are.  She’ll be back, I guarantee it.”

A noise from the other end of the hall caught the boy’s attention.  They turned to watch as Bruce opened the front door and gave Selina one last kiss.  She gave a hopeful smile and a wave to the boys before walking out of the house.  Bruce watched her leave, leaning heavily on the front door for several minutes before finally closing the portal.

Bruce sighed deeply, and when he looked up, Tim was just a couple steps away.  “Tim, now isn’t…”

Bruce trailed off as Tim wrapped his arms around Bruce.  “I’m sorry, Dad,” Tim said softly.

“I am, too, Pal,” Bruce whispered as the pair consoled each other.

Several minutes later, Bruce looked down and asked, “Are you hungry, Pal?  Did you want to get breakfast?”

Tim gave a massive yawn, “I think I just want to go to bed.  I’m exhausted.  Wake me up for lunch, though.”

Bruce nodded, “I will.  I’ll wake you up for lunch, and we’ll talk then.  I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

“I think there’s only one thing I want to know,” Tim said as they climbed the stairs, “Are you going to be alright?”

Bruce sighed as he squeezed Tim’s shoulder, “This isn’t the first time she’s walked out of my life.”

“It’s different this time, though,” Tim said.

“Yes, it is,” Bruce said quietly.

The pair stopped outside of Tim’s bedroom, and Bruce said, “Tim…”

“I’m not mad anymore, Dad,” Tim said, cutting Bruce off, “I never should have been mad in the first place.”

“You had enough reasons, Tim,” Bruce said, “Thanks for being level-headed.”

Tim shrugged, “In the long run, it’s not worth holding a grudge.  Definitely not now.”

“Get some sleep, kiddo,” Bruce said, giving Tim another small hug, “I’ll wake you up for lunch.”

Tim smiled, “Why don’t you take a nap of your own?  You look pretty tired.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Bruce said, “See you later.”

_That Night…_

“You’ve been down here since dinner, kiddo,” Bruce said, “You feeling alright?”

Tim smiled as Bruce walked up to the Bat Computer.  “Yeah, I’m good.  It was a really slow night on the Watchtower this morning, and instead of stewing about our fight, I did some research into our case.  I just wanted to assemble everything, in the hopes of it making sense when I present what I found.”

Bruce gave a small smile, “Sounds like you got something done.  What do you have to show me?”

“I’m still compiling data,” Tim said, “I think I knocked over the right domino, just in the wrong order.  I found a lot, and I’m still trying to make sense of it all.”

“How about just a sneak peek,” Bruce asked.

Tim nodded, “Okay.  I’ve found one of the ‘who’s’ we’re looking for.  The guy who was in charge of supply distribution.  Once I get my notes in order, I’ll give you his name.  He’s a county social worker.  It looks like he’s also the person who ordered the supplies to be redirected.”

“That’s a big find, Tim,” Bruce said.

“I don’t know if it’s too big yet,” Tim said, “This guy is the one who signs the orders.  We’ll have to look a little deeper to see how involved he actually is.  It wouldn’t be the first time underlings changed orders after they were signed.  Here it is.  His name is Scott Grissom.  He’s a Senior County Social Worker, in charge of Homeless Resources.”

“Was it his idea to move everything to a central warehouse,” Bruce asked.

“It was,” Tim said with a nod, “but the notion had been around for a while.  Even before the fire, a string of robberies had put the idea of increased security on people’s minds at City Hall.”

Bruce thought for a second, “Did they ever catch the thieves?”

Tim nodded, “Yeah.  Of the six crimes I looked into, four were committed by homeless people.  The other two were done by kids, looking for a thrill by committing a crime.”

“Why are the homeless stealing their own supplies,” Bruce asked thoughtfully.

“I know, it doesn’t make sense,” Tim said.

“Were any of the facilities that got robbed the ones that got shut down,” Bruce asked.

Tim looked up, “Well, yeah.  They all got shut down.”

Bruce looked down at Tim in confusion for a second before the truth dawned on him, “Oh, you mean the supply points got robbed, not the shelters.”

“I’m sorry, I thought I made that clear,” Tim said, “the robberies were at the warehouses.”

Bruce nodded, “That makes a little more sense now.  Which warehouses were robbed?”

Tim plotted the locations on a map, “It was three locations.  They were each robbed twice.  They were all among the first warehouses to be closed.”

Bruce stared at the map, “Think it’s connected?”

Tim sighed, “I don’t think there is a way to answer that question, Bruce.  At least, not yet.”

Bruce felt just as frustrated as Tim sounded.  “You said you knocked over the right domino in the wrong order.  What should have been the right order?  What do you think you should have found first, or what do you think is missing?”

Tim shook his head, “That’s just it.  I just don’t know.  Maybe I’m just overthinking things.  It wouldn’t be the first time I’d done that.  It just feels like I’m jumping into this investigation in the middle.”

“Better than not jumping in at all,” Bruce said, “You’re probably feeling this way from the way we got this case.”

“What do you mean,” Tim asked.

Bruce shrugged, “There really wasn’t a crime preceding this investigation.  You started looking into this based on an offhand comment from a kid you were helping.  It piqued your interest, and we’ve uncovered something potentially bigger.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Tim said, “I hope there aren’t any crimes attached to this investigation that we haven’t found yet.  Nothing bigger than Ricky’s shoplifting, at least.”

Bruce nudged Tim with a smile, “Come on, enough of this.  Let’s go work out some of our frustrations.  This city isn’t going to clean itself up.”

Tim stood and stretched after saving his note file, “Sounds good, Dad.”

 

**A/N: Hello.  Long time, no see.  I really wanted to be done with this one by now, but that hasn’t happened.  This chapter got kind of lost along the way.  I was looking at my timeline and realized, this is June, and I haven’t put out any of my 2019 stories yet.  I got a jump on a few of them, and this one got pushed to the side.**

**Catwoman might be gone for now, but this is setting up something that will happen down the line.  If you’ve read my Timeline, you might be able to guess what it is.**

**I think this one will have anywhere from another three to six chapters before all is said and done.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	7. 7

Houses

Chapter 7

 

_Monday…_

“Hello?”

“Hello.  May I speak with Timothy, please?”

Tim glanced around the Gotham State University bookstore and found it empty.  _People are in class right now.  I guess I have a minute._

Tim spoke a little softer, “This is Tim.”

“This is Margaret Graham calling from Wayne Tech.”

Tim’s eyes widened and his heart rate increased.  _My internship!  I forgot she said she would be calling today._   “Hello, Mrs. Graham.”

“Is this a bad time, Timothy,” Margaret asked, “You sound like you’re trying not to be caught on the phone.”

Tim smiled and shrugged, “That’s not too far from the truth.  I’m at work.”

The line was quiet for a second before Margaret asked, “You have a job?”

“Campus book store at Gotham State University,” Tim said, “The store is empty right now, but you never know when the supervisors are going to pop up.”

“Yes, you never know when a supervisor will show up,” a stern voice said from behind Tim.

Tim froze in place for a second, then said, “Can you hold for a second, Margaret?”

“Margaret,” Tim’s supervisor said, “That better not be a girlfriend, on my time.”

Tim covered the microphone of his phone and said, “Intern coordinator.  I applied for an internship.”

“Did you get it,” the supervisor asked expectantly.

Tim gave a small smile, “We haven’t gotten that far yet.”

“Well, you better not keep her waiting.”

Tim raised the phone to his ear again, “Sorry about that, Mrs. Graham.”

Margaret smiled, “You can let your supervisor know that you got it, if you want it.”

Tim smiled at his supervisor and mouthed, “I got it.”

The woman smiled and walked away.

Tim spoke to Margaret, “Yes, I do want it.  Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.  We need to work out your schedule.  When would be a good time to go over that?”

Tim thought for a second, “Can you call me back in an hour?”

“One hour,” Margaret said, “Welcome to Wayne Enterprises, Timothy.  Although, I’m sure this isn’t the first time you’ve been welcomed here.”

“You’re right,” Tim said with a smile, “I’ll look for your call.”

_One Hour Later…_

“Hello, Mrs. Graham.  Thanks for calling me back.”

Tim could make out a smile in Margaret’s voice, “Is this a better time?  Are you on your break now?”

Tim shook his head, “No.  I worked an early shift today.  I’m on my way home.  I have as much time as we need.”

“Good,” Margaret said, “I wanted to discuss your schedule.  You didn’t mention you had a job in your interview.”

“It’s on my resume and application,” Tim said, “When it wasn’t brought up in the interview, I figured it wasn’t a problem.”

Tim could hear papers rustling in the background, “Joel didn’t mention anything when he assembled the list of applicants.  So, you have school and a job.  When are you available for an internship?”

“I only work on days that I have classes,” Tim said.

“Shouldn’t you be in class right now, then,” Margaret asked.

“I also take just about all of my classes online.  I have to submit a paper tonight.  This is summer school, so I’m only taking one class right now.  We only meet on Mondays and Wednesdays.”

Margaret thought for a second, “Sounds like a good schedule.  Can you give me Tuesdays and Thursdays?”

“Absolutely,” Tim said.

“Now, you know that internships are meant to be short term.  Since you’re doing this on your own, and not through a school program, we can be a little more flexible in length of internship.  Normal is three months.”

Tim said, “I actually wasn’t aware of that, but okay.”

“Is there a problem, Timothy,” Margaret asked, “What were your expectations?”

Tim thought for a second, “Frankly, I was hoping to have this internship until I could be officially hired.”

Margaret chuckled lightly, “Let’s see where we are after three months, and discuss it again then.”

“Okay,” Tim said, “So, eight o’clock tomorrow, then?”

“No,” Margaret said, “We’ll have you start next Tuesday.  We still have some paperwork to do on our end, and I’ll need you to send us a picture of yourself, for your photo I.D.”

Tim spoke nervously, “Um, I already have an access badge, but my picture probably needs to be updated.”

“If you can email me a picture tonight, I can get everything ready,” Margaret said, “What sort of badge did Mr. Wayne set you up with?”

“He said it was all-access,” Tim said, “I’ve never been stopped in the building before.”

“That sounds good,” Margaret said, “So, get me an updated picture tonight.  I’ll call you later in the week to make sure everything is good for you to start next Tuesday.  I look forward to working with you, Timothy.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Graham,” Tim said, “I’m looking forward to it, too.”

Tim hung up his phone and got out of his car, which he had parked in the Wayne Manor garage several minutes before.  A slow smile crept across Tim’s face.  _He-he.  I got it.  It was basically a foregone conclusion that I would get it, but it is a relief that I actually got it.  I wonder what sort of work I’ll be doing?  I don’t remember the last time I was this excited for something.  This is going to be awesome._

“You appear to be quite a bit happier tonight than you normally are when you return home from work, Master Timothy,” Alfred said, surprising the teen as he walked past the kitchen.

Tim stopped and smiled at Alfred, “It was a good day today, Alfred.  No heavy boxes to lug around the store, and I got the official notification that I got my internship.”

“Congratulations, young sir.  I believe this calls for a celebration.”

“That’s not necessary, Alfred,” Tim said, “but thanks, anyway.  I have to get online for my class.”

“Very well, young sir,” Alfred said as Tim hurried away.

Alfred walked back into the kitchen, thinking to himself.  _I believe we can make something special that Master Timothy will like for dinner.  Let’s see, I picked up some nice pork chops the other day.  I can do a quick mustard marinade, then…perhaps some asparagus.  Yes, I believe Master Timothy will enjoy that._

_That Night…_

“Please, Batman?  Please?  Please?  Please?”

Batman rolled his eyes and sighed, “Alright!  Fine.  Just stop begging, already.”

Nightwing gave a bright smile and pulled Robin’s cape, until the teen was standing next to him.  Nightwing had been asking since the start of dinner if he and Robin could patrol together tonight.  Batman hadn’t given an answer until just now, as the three vigilantes sat on a rooftop overlooking a known drug area.  The area had been nearly deserted since the Bats arrived, half an hour earlier.  Increasing boredom had caused Nightwing’s requests to go spiraling into nagging territory.

Nightwing rubbed Robin’s hair and said, “Thanks, Bats.  We’ll be good.”

“Just go,” Batman said, “before you really start annoying me.”

Nightwing and Robin launched their grapple lines and flew to the south, away from Batman’s location.

“Any special reason you want me to go with you tonight,” Robin asked over the wind as they flew.

Nightwing smiled at his brother, “Yes.  I thought we’d have some fun.  Stakeouts are boring.  It’s a nice night, and we haven’t beaten up some petty criminals in a while.”

Robin sighed, “Batman and I were going to look into our case tonight.”

“What case,” Nightwing asked, “Your homeless shelter case?  Isn’t that more of a research thing than an investigating thing?”

Robin cocked his head as they landed on a rooftop, “Aren’t research and investigation the same thing?”

Nightwing grew a small smile, “They can be.  Tonight isn’t a night for book work.  Tonight is a night for fun.  We have a lot to celebrate.”

“Like what,” Robin asked.

“Like you, officially getting your internship.  Like me, getting a date with Barbara tomorrow night.”

Robin smirked, “You had a date with her last night, and two nights before that.”

Nightwing nodded, “With our past history, each date is a victory that needs to be celebrated.”

Robin rolled his eyes under his mask.  Nightwing nudged him and said, “I saw that, Little Brother.”

Robin turned and said, “No, you didn’t.  I wear a mask specifically so you can’t see me roll my eyes at you.”

“If you don’t want to make it obvious that you’re rolling your eyes, don’t roll your head at the same time,” Nightwing said.

“I’ll remember that,” Robin said, “Where are we going?”

Nightwing smiled, “We’re taking a tour of Crime Alley tonight.  Bats doesn’t let you work Crime Alley, does he?”

Robin shook his head, “Not by myself.  He doesn’t let me go there or the docks on my own.  Not sure I really want to go either place on my own just yet.”

Nightwing patted Robin’s shoulder, “Well, you’re not alone tonight.  Come on, let’s go stop some crime.”

The brothers crossed Hoyle Avenue, the unofficial northern boundary of Crime Alley, and Robin said, “If we do that, they’ll have to change the name.  They’ll just call it ‘Alley’ if we stop all the crime.”

Nightwing laughed, “Feeling ambitious tonight, aren’t you?”

“Let’s start out the week strong,” Robin said.

A convoy of three police cars, all running lights and sirens, passed by the vigilantes.

Robin said, “Let’s follow them.  There must be something big going on.”

Nightwing grabbed Robin’s cape before the younger crime fighter could run off, “That’s just how the police roll down here.  Safety in numbers, and all that.  They could just be patrolling.”

“So, we’re not going to follow them,” Robin asked.

Nightwing pulled a grapple gun and said, “No, we’ll follow them.  Could be fun.”

Nightwing and Robin perched on the roof of a tenement building, eight blocks south of their last position, and observed as the officers surrounded and arrested a drug dealer.  Everything went orderly, and the bust was completed within twenty minutes.

“Huh,” Nightwing said, “Didn’t need us, after all.”

“I gotta tell you,” Robin said, looking around, “Crime Alley is not how I thought it would be.”

“Have you really never been down here before,” Nightwing asked.

Robin shook his head, “No.  I grew up in North Gotham, and Batman doesn’t take me down here.”

“What were you thinking it would be like,” Nightwing asked.

Robin thought for a second, then said, “The Alternate Present scenes from Back to the Future Two.  You know, with bars on all the windows, and fires in trash cans, and roving biker gangs, and Sammy Hagar music playing.”

Nightwing smiled, “Well, it’s a Monday night.  You’ll have to come on a weekend sometime, and see if it meets your expectations.”

Their attention was caught by a black van driving down the street, followed by a motorcycle.

Robin gasped deeply, “It’s him.  It’s the Red Hood.”

“Let’s go,” Nightwing said seriously.

The vigilante brothers launched their lines and followed after the hooded mystery man.  Red Hood was following close enough behind the van that he was in a blind spot.  He couldn’t be seen by the driver in either of the side mirrors, and the solid rear doors made seeing out of the back of the van impossible.

Robin turned his radio to channel two, then held up two fingers to Nightwing.  Nightwing changed his frequency, then asked, “What is it, Robin?”

“Any special reason we call him Red Hood?”

Nightwing glanced over as they landed on a roof to change directions, “That’s what he calls himself.  It probably has to do with that red thing on his head.”

“That’s not a hood, though,” Robin said with a smirk, “It’s a helmet.”

Nightwing rolled his eyes, “Well, calling himself the Red Hood sounds a lot better than calling himself the Red Helmet.  Do you want to sit here and debate naming conventions?  Because, if you do, don’t be surprised if you find feathers attached to your uniform tomorrow.”

“Uh, no thanks,” Robin said.

“Okay, let’s go catch this guy.”

“Let’s get him,” Robin said, “Oh, by the way, I saw you roll your eyes.”

Nightwing rolled his eyes again, and kicked Robin in the butt, “Get going.”

The crime fighters soared down yet another street in pursuit of their hooded quarry.  Robin was watching intently as Red Hood revved his motor and swerved quickly around the van, which he had been following for the last ten blocks.

“What’s that,” Robin asked as Red Hood slapped a small square package onto the back of the van.

Nightwing didn’t get a chance to speculate on an answer before the small box exploded, flipping the van forward onto its roof.  The van slid for fifty feet before coming to a stop.  Red Hood had stopped his motorcycle and dismounted, placing himself just feet from where the van eventually stopped.

“Oh, my god,” Robin said as he and Nightwing landed on a nearby rooftop, “He really just did that?”

“Let’s get him,” Nightwing said.

Before the boys could move, Red Hood drew his pistols from the holsters on his hips and started firing into the open back doors of the van.

Robin and Nightwing landed behind Red Hood as the hooded man holstered his weapons.  “Wasn’t blowing them up enough for you,” Nightwing called out.

Red Hood spun around, “Oh, it’s you…and the fake.  No, blowing them up wasn’t enough.  They were still moving.  I had to make sure they were dead.”

“Make it easy on yourself,” Robin said, “Drop the guns and come along peacefully.”

Red Hood laughed, “Why should I do that?  I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“How many people did you just kill,” Nightwing asked, “You’re not getting away with that.”

“Who is going to press charges,” Red Hood asked sarcastically, “These were Black Mask’s men.  They were out collecting protection bribes tonight.”

“Committing a crime to stop a crime doesn’t make the crime okay,” Nightwing said.

“You’re in no position to judge me, Nightwing,” Red Hood said, “You don’t have a badge anymore.  Your actions on the streets are just as illegal as mine.”

_How did he know I used to be an officer,_ Nightwing thought suspiciously.

“Nightwing isn’t gunning people down in the streets, after blowing up their van,” Robin shouted.

“No one’s talking to you, you little shit,” Red Hood said, “Now, be a good little boy and go sit in the corner while the grown-ups talk.”

“If you have a problem with Robin, then you have a problem with me,” Nightwing said.

The vigilantes couldn’t see the smirk on Red Hood’s face, but they could hear it in his voice, “I was hoping you would say that.”

Red Hood drew his twin pistols again, but only got one shot out of each gun before the familiar click of an empty weapon sounded.  Nightwing and Robin were already dodging when Red Hood went for his guns, so the two shots missed by a wide margin.  Red Hood drew a foot-long combat knife from his belt and took a fighting stance.  Nightwing pulled his eskrima sticks while Robin spun a collapsible staff to its full length.

“He likes explosive,” Robin said quietly to Nightwing, “Watch out for tricks.”

“This isn’t the first time we’ve tangled,” Nightwing replied as he ran forward to engage their enemy.

Red Hood ducked under a head-level swipe from Nightwing’s sticks.  His return slash missed Nightwing’s side as the man spun out of the way.  Hood shuffled to the side and kicked at Nightwing.  The kick was blocked, and Nightwing swiped at Red Hood’s knee, trying to send the man to the ground.  Hood met the swipe with his knife, then stabbed at Nightwing’s chest.  Nightwing leaned back, out of the way.  He took three intentional, stumbling steps backwards, and Hood followed to press his advantage.

Nightwing was hoping for that reaction.  He dropped into a backwards roll to arrest his momentum, then popped up and charged at Red Hood.  Nightwing gave a grim smirk as Red Hood blocked and parried every attack he launched.  They were evenly matched, and it was frustrating for Nightwing.

Until Robin joined the fight.

While Nightwing was monopolizing Red Hood’s attention, Robin maneuvered behind the hooded criminal.  He waited until Red Hood seemed to be completely engrossed in the fight before swinging his staff with all his might at Red Hood’s hood.  At the last second, Red Hood ducked.  Robin tried to stop his swing, but couldn’t.  Nightwing brought up a stick to block the blow, which was now aimed at his own head.

Red Hood turned to Robin and asked, “Did you really think I forgot about you?”

Red Hood grabbed the front of Robin’s tunic and head-butted the teen.  Robin staggered back, holding his forehead in pain.

“Robin, MOVE,” Nightwing called out.

Robin opened his eyes in time to see Red Hood bearing down on him.  Robin only had time to dive out of the way of the slashing knife.  Red Hood missed the teen, but did take a large swatch of fabric out of Robin’s cape.

Robin regained his feet and swiped at Red Hood’s knife hand with his staff.  He made contact and managed to dislodge the knife.

Red Hood rushed at Robin and tackled the youth.  He managed to punch Robin twice in the face, splitting the teen’s lower lip, before Nightwing hit Red Hood from the side with a tackle of his own.  The two rolled, exchanging punches, elbows, and knees in the epitome of a knock down, drag out, street fight.

The pair of combatants finally stopped rolling, with Red Hood sitting on top of Nightwing.  Nightwing blocked all of the blows that Red Hood rained down on him.  Robin ran over and punched Red Hood in the side of the helmet, trying to get him off of Nightwing.  His blow unintentionally hit the release button for the helmet.

Distracted by the fresh air hitting his face, Red Hood missed the punch that Nightwing aimed at his face.  Nightwing didn’t miss, however.  The blow knocked the helmet off of Red Hood’s head, causing Nightwing to gasp in shock at the sight presented to him.

Red Hood looked back and kicked Robin in the chest as the younger crime fighter tried to press an advantage.  Robin fell to the ground, clutching his chest and coughing.

Red Hood looked back down at Nightwing and gave an evil smirk, “Surprise, Bitch.”

Nightwing stood, with his jaw still sagging.  Red Hood had a most peculiarly familiar face.  The man was a few years younger than Nightwing.  He was ruggedly handsome, with a firm jawline and chiseled cheekbones.  His wavy black hair had a strange, white forelock, which added a mystique to his appearance.  His eyes were covered with a black Domino mask, but Nightwing could imagine a familiar, and heart-achingly missed, chocolate brown color.

It was absolutely impossible, but there was no denying that he was looking at the face of Jason Todd, his dead brother.

_This can’t be.  I mean, this is_ literally _impossible.  Jason is…is…dead.  Isn’t he?_

“Robin, stop,” Nightwing said, as Robin prepared to attack Red Hood from behind.

Robin stopped, but Red Hood turned to kick Robin again.

Nightwing hurried around Red Hood and caught his leg before it could make contact with the teen.  “Oh, no, you don’t.  This is done.  Explain yourself.”

Hood smirked, “What is there to explain?”

“Uh, there’s a lot to explain,” Nightwing said incredulously, “What happened?  Why are you here?  Um, you _are_ you, right?”

“The one and only,” Hood said proudly before looking down, “As for your other questions, I honestly don’t know.”

Robin looked back and forth between Nightwing and Red Hood, not understanding the sudden change in attitude.  “Um, what’s going on, Nightwing?”

“I’m not sure, Robin,” Nightwing said.  He turned back to Hood and said, “This is incredible.  You’re…not supposed to be here.”

Red Hood didn’t hear the second part of Nightwing’s statement, “How can you call _him_ Robin?”

Robin rolled his eyes under his mask, making sure Red Hood saw the move, “This isn’t a Halloween costume.  I am Robin.”

“A pale replacement, at best,” Red Hood snarked.

“How would you know that,” Robin shot back.

Nightwing placed a hand on Robin’s chest, holding him back and forestalling any further comments.  “I’ll handle this, Robin.  I’ll explain everything later.”

“Explain it to him now,” Red Hood said, “I’m getting the feeling he’s not the type to keep from interrupting, just because you told him to shut up.”

Nightwing took a deep breath, “Are you sure about that?  You know the next step, after that.”

Red Hood shook his head, “There is no next step after that.  The two of you are going to leave, and you and Bat-bastard are going to stay out of my territory, if you value your lives.”

Nightwing cocked his head, “What did Batman do?”

“It’s what he didn’t do,” Red Hood said, “He had a simple job, after everything happened, and he didn’t do it.”

Nightwing thought back, wondering what Hood was holding against their father, “What didn’t he do?”

“He didn’t kill the Joker.”

“Batman doesn’t kill,” Robin said.

“Not even when it’s the most important thing in the world,” Red Hood grumbled hotly.  He looked Robin up and down, then asked, “You living in the Manor?”

“What is he talking about, Nightwing,” Robin asked.

Nightwing took a breath, “It’s okay, Robin.  He knows.”

“Knows what?”

“Everything,” Red Hood said in a sinister tone.

Nightwing leaned close to Robin’s ear and whispered, “Tim, this is absolutely impossible, but that man is Jason.”

Robin’s eyes widened dramatically under his mask, and he whispered into Nightwing’s ear, “Jason who?  You can’t possibly mean…”

Nightwing just nodded.  Robin looked at Red Hood with a sagging jaw.  _No wonder he called me a Replacement, and said he knew everything there was to know about being Robin.  How is this possible, though?  He’s been dead for four years._

Red Hood looked back and forth between Nightwing and Robin and said, “That’s right.”

“Come home, Hood,” Nightwing said firmly, “Whatever went on, or didn’t go on, in the past, we can work it out.”

Hood scoffed, “Yeah, right.  There is nothing for me there.  He showed just how little he cared for me.  Why should I give him another chance?  Wasn’t one life enough?”

“I can’t say I understand exactly how you are standing in front of me right now, but this is obviously a second chance,” Nightwing said, “We can do things differently, this time.”

Red Hood shook his head, “There’s only one thing that would make that possible, and Bat-Ass won’t do it.”

“So, where does this leave us,” Nightwing asked.

“There is no ‘us’, not anymore,” Hood growled.

“Then, why even come back to Gotham,” Nightwing asked, “Or, did you never leave?”

Red Hood looked like he was at a loss for an answer, “I left.  I was sent back here.  Look, this isn’t something you can understand, Nightwing.  I don’t even understand it.  All I know is, this town took everything from me.  I’m taking it back.”

Nightwing shook his head, “Not like this, Hood, not like this.  Come in with us.  Let’s work this out with Bats.”

Hood drew and reloaded one of his pistols faster than Nightwing thought possible, “I already answered that.  Not going to happen.  I’ll do this my way, the way I should have done it all along.  Get out of here, while you’re still in my good graces.  Never come back.  Crime Alley is my territory.  You, and Bat-Ass, and the Replacement here are not welcome.  You saw what I do to my enemies.  Stay north of Hoyle, and you won’t get the same treatment.”

Nightwing sighed, “You know that’s just an invitation for Batman to increase patrols down here.  Committing crime to prevent crime won’t fly; not with me, and not with Batman.”

“If you want to live,” Red Hood said deliberately, “you need to leave.  Go, before I decide I don’t like there being someone else wearing that ‘R’.”

Red Hood leveled his pistol at Robin.  Nightwing immediately stepped in front of the weapon, then stepped closer to Red Hood and spoke softly, “Come on, Jay, this isn’t you.  Please, I want my brother back.  Bruce wants his son back.  You have no idea how bad it’s been for all of us since you were killed.”

Red Hood took a deep breath, then whispered, “Maybe I’m not me, Dick.  As long as the Joker is alive, Bruce is my enemy.  Take your…your Replacement, and get out of here, before you really piss me off.”

Nightwing looked close to tears.  He felt like he was losing his brother all over again.  “Come on, Robin.  We’ve got a report to make.  I’ll be seeing you, Little Wing.”

The old, familiar, nickname sent an odd pang of longing through Jason’s heart, but Red Hood was in charge right now.  “Not if you want to see anything else ever again.  I’ll be watching.  If any of you cross Hoyle Avenue, it will be the last thing you do.”

Nightwing had Robin lead the way away from Gotham’s newest criminal/vigilante, in case Red Hood decided to change his mind and shoot the teen in the back.

Two blocks away, Robin asked, “Did that really happen?  Is that really…really…”

Nightwing spoke with pain streaking his voice, “That’s really him.  I don’t know how, but it’s him.  B is going to shit a brick.”

“What do we do now,” Robin asked.

“Ask me a question I have a possibility of answering, Robin,” Nightwing said, “Like the secret to Cold Fusion, or something.  I don’t have any idea what to do now.  It’s not my decision to make.”

Robin stared at the sidewalk and sighed heavily, “I know he adopted me, but…do you think B will still want me around, after he finds out?”

Nightwing stopped and pulled Robin into an alley.  Making sure no one was watching, Nightwing pulled Robin into a tight hug.  “Don’t ever ask that, Brother.  You are his son.  You aren’t going anywhere.”

“That’s not what I asked, Nightwing,” Robin said softly.

Nightwing sighed, “He’ll pursue Jason, but he needs you just as much as Batman needs Robin.  He’ll make a special effort to reach out to you while he’s looking into all this.  He will want you around.  I guarantee it.”

Nightwing activated his radio and called out, “Batman, come in.”

It took a minute for the man to respond, “I was about to head in for the night.  Are you two still out?”

“We are.  We need a pick up.”

“Where are you?”

Nightwing looked at the closest street sign, “Two-hundred twentieth and Mason.”

“What are you two doing in Crime Alley,” Batman demanded at once.

“Making the biggest discovery of our lives, B,” Nightwing said.  “Pick us up at the Northpointe Mall.  We have a lot to talk about.”

 

**A/N: A little different than Under the Red Hood, but it fits my story.  I wanted to add this little bit of story in before I get back to the rest of the story.  Not sure how many chapters are left in this one, but it’s going a lot slower than I hoped.**

**I think I’m going to take a break from this one for a while, so I can get Break and School Days completed and posted.  Break will be three chapters, and School Days will be five chapters.  They are coming along nicely, and hopefully will be done in the next month.**

**Please, let me know what you think so far in the comments.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


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